She Hates Me
by HM Grayson
Summary: Nessie always knew Leah didn't like her, even when everyone else pretended it wasn't true. It just took her much longer than she thought it did to figure out why.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owes it; I borrowed it. She made a fortune from it; I just want to not get sued.

Author's Note: I can't believe I'm bothering to say this, but...this is not going to be a Nessie/Leah story. Just so we're clear. It's emphatically not going to be Jacob/Nessie and the Jacob/Leah may well be all in Nessie's head. Just so everyone knows. It's going to be...Nessie figuring some human truths. Growing up is not easy. People are complex. We all make mistakes. And it really sucks when _his_ best friend is a girl.

The following exchange is based on the assumption that Quil can pass for Claire's father if he has to, a deception Jacob and Nessie can't pull off. And people don't mind their own business all the time. And yes, no seven year old would talk like this. Nessie's special. But for all her big words, she is just a kid.

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She Hates Me

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Chapter 1

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"She doesn't like me."

"Everyone loves you, princess."

Jacob said it with the sort of lazy nonchalance that was a little too unconcerned to be completely natural. Even at the age of three, with mental capacities well beyond the seven years I looked, I could tell Jacob was holding back on me. It was unfathomable. I hadn't realized he could resist me anything.

The cold water of early spring would have frozen a normal human; my status as official unnatural anomaly came in handy sometimes. That was why I liked making Jacob take me to the beach this early in the year, when only the two of us and our elevated body temperatures would be brave enough to tackle the frigid ocean. Only, like always, it was _not_ just the two of us.

Even with my back to her, I couldn't _not_ notice she was laying on the beach behind us. That she was engrossed in some literature from work was completely besides the point. She was here, spoiling my alone time with Jacob with just her mere presence. She was always there, always with us. Unlike Mommy, Daddy, the rest of my family and all of Jacob's other friends who also infringed on our time together, she was not a part of the scenery that I could ignore. I wasn't sure of the origin of my awareness of her, though I suspected it was due to Jacob's awareness. The feeling was intolerable, no matter its cause. This day was for Jacob and I.

"Leah doesn't like me," I repeated, loudly enough that she heard me. I didn't care, so sure I was right.

That made her look up, rolling her eyes, annoyed at my observation, mostly because it was an interruption. Even worse, she exchanged a look with Jacob, whose mouth twitched up in the corner. That just served to anger me further—it was my day and they were exchanging _looks_. Grownups were all the same, always pretending I was invisible as they pretended to know better.

After Jacob had finished staring at Leah, he looked at me.

"Leah doesn't like anyone."

"That's not true."

"Nessie," he tried to soothe me, "It's a well known fact that Leah is a cranky old harpy who hates anything that moves. Don't take it personally."

"I'm not old," was all she said.

"Sorry. See Nessie? Leah's bitterness has nothing to do with you."

I glanced back at her. She looked amused by what Jacob was saying, but when she caught me looking, she pulled her lip back and snarled.

"You're teasing her," I announced. "Teasing is a sign of friendship. Therefore, you are friends, Jacob. Therefore, she likes you. Therefore, she does not hate everything. Therefore, you are wrong. Therefore, Leah doesn't like me for reasons other than what you have proposed."

"Where'd you read that teasing was a sign of friendship, kid?" Leah asked. "Or did you learn it from PBS?"

Jacob growled at her—he never did appreciate public television, the only kind of television I watched—as I explained to Leah: "Daddy explained it. Teasing can be a sign of hostility, friendship, romance or repressed sexual desire. Hostility implies insults, laced with hatred. The humor contained within your discourse suggests that it is not hostility."

"Why can't it be—" she bit her lip, but the smile still came through "—repressed sexual desire? We're both attractive adults. At least, I am."

"You're such a—" Jacob choked on the word as he looked at me. "Cut it out, Leah."

"I'm asking her a question, Jake. I'm sure your little princess has an answer."

I did. "Jacob cannot. He loves me."

Leah stared at me for a moment, just stared, her face blank. Finally, she muttered, "Maybe spending my Saturday chaperoning isn't exactly what I wanted to be doing with my life."

"You shouldn't have volunteered, then," Jacob said to her as I tried to figure out what was going on between them. Usually adults were much simpler to decipher. Why did Leah look apologetic? Why was Jacob unhappy with my response? He was always telling me how much he loved me.

"And let you blow me off for a three year old? Please. I need someone to provide a small challenge when I run and you're the only one who can pretend to keep up with me."

"Pretend? I could run circles around you."

"In what universe?"

"Why are you chaperoning?" I demanded, ignoring their game of one-upmanship. Jacob was clearly superior, anyway.

He cringed and even she looked a little upset. With a quiet serious voice that Jacob used only when we talked about something _very_ important and usually unpleasant he said: "We should talk."

"Nessie, come sit beside me." Leah patted the blanket beside her as she sat up.

"No."

When we talked all serious-like, I always sat on Jacob's lap. It was my favorite place in the whole world, like being held by a heating blanket that I knew would die to keep me safe, die to make sure I was happy. But this time when I moved towards him, he shook his head.

"Nessie, go sit with Leah."

"I don't want too. She doesn't like me."

"Please, Nessie," Jacob begged. "Just for now."

"Scared kid? This big bad wolf doesn't bite." Leah smirked. "Much."

I flounced over, purposely sitting right beside her. "I'm only doing this because my Jacob asked me too."

"So that's so sweet my teeth hurt."

Ignoring her, I sat up perfectly straight and watched Jacob expectantly. He was pacing along the water's edge, the water spraying against his legs, the wind blowing his clothes tight against him—he looked like he was being strangled. When he glanced over it wasn't at me, which was a horrific first that made me want to cry. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Leah motioned for him to get on with it. And because she said so, he did.

Crouching down in front of me so he could look me in the eyes, but not touching me, Jacob began to explain.

"You know how we aren't like normal people?"

I nodded.

"Because we're different, we do things that aren't the same that humans do, things they can't do, things they can't understand. Like imprinting. Do you understand imprinting, Nessie?"

"It means you belong to me," I said proudly. Leah rolled her eyes. My mommy had told me why Leah didn't like imprinting and she told me that I should feel sorry for what had happened, but I usually just wished Leah would go away.

"That's my clever girl," Jacob said with a thin smile. "But humans don't know what imprinting is. They don't know that you're my best friend in the whole world. When they see us together..." he took a deep breath, "They don't understand."

"I don't understand."

"A grown human man should not hang around a human little girl," Leah summarized. "Especially a little white one."

I still didn't get it but I wasn't going to tell _her_ that. My Jacob realized there I was a little unsure on the details.

"If a human found the two of us together, without Leah or any of our other friends, they wouldn't realize that you were my imprint, my best friend and my favorite person on the planet. They would wonder how we knew each other, and where your parents were, and if I was treating you properly."

"But you treat me better than anyone."

Jacob looked happier, though Leah whined, "This is getting embarrassing. Do you really need your own personal cheerleader?"

He mouthed something at Leah—something off—then went back to ignoring her. "You and I know that, and our families do, but humans wouldn't. In case they see us, she has to be here; they won't worry enough to interfere if she's with us, even though she's actually the scary one. That's why Leah has to stay."

"What if I don't want her too?"

"Please, Ness? She can be annoying and mean and loud—"

"She gets it," Leah interrupted.

Jacob continued, "But for my sake, won't you try and get along with her?"

"She's the one who doesn't like me," I pointed out.

"But I'm still here, kid," Leah said. "And Jake asked you so nicely too. I guess you're just not as mature as I am."

The thought that Jacob might in some way find her superior to me was unendurable. I stuck my hand out, very formally, and plastered the biggest, fakest smile I could on my face. "Let's be friends, Leah."

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she said, putting her much larger, darker hand around mine. You could barely see my hand in hers. We shook solemnly and then I turned to my Jacob and asked him to take me back into the water.

"Humans can be silly sometimes, can't they Jacob?" Safely on his shoulders, I wanted him to verify my suspicions.

"Everyone can be silly sometimes. And it's just as much our fault for being so different as it is theirs for not understating—it's not really anyone's fault at all. We try, humans try. Everybody tries."

"It upsets you, what they think. How they think funny things about us. It bothers you. Doesn't it?"

"Yeah." He couldn't lie to me. Not if I asked him asked him a serious question and wanted a serious answer. "But you shouldn't blame humans, Nessie."

"I won't."

I didn't. Why would I blame humans when they couldn't know any better? You can't get mad at a dog for having fleas. I certainly couldn't blame Jacob for explaining to me the unpleasant realization that humans didn't want us to be together. With no other possibilities left, I had no choice but to blame Leah.

She didn't like me first.

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TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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For a while, it was enough that I had discovered the truth, a truth no one else seemed to have noticed. What did it matter the cause? Leah was just like that, everyone always said. And for a time, I didn't give it much thought.

Not even vampires remain static forever. Eventually it dawned on me that no one had ever not like me before, besides the Volturi, but they were ancient, evil vampires who only tried to kill me when they couldn't adopt me, so they didn't count. She was the first—and I couldn't shake the suspicion that it didn't mean she was wrong.

If there was a good reason that Leah didn't like me, I wanted to know it.

Jacob was useless. Even thought he could read her mind—all the shapeshifters were like Daddy and I put together, sharing their thoughts with one another continuously when they phased—he steadily maintained that she didn't not like me. Since he never lied to me, he obviously believed it, however wrong he was. That meant she wasn't thinking about the reasons I bothered her, which meant Daddy couldn't help.

That didn't mean I didn't ask him. My family was just as bad as Jacob when it came to giving me what I wanted and I didn't expect this time to be any different. But it was.

Daddy just looked at me quizzically. "Why is it that you want me to read Leah's thoughts?"

"Renesmee," Mommy said, "If Leah doesn't like you, I'm sure she'd tell you to your face. She does it to me all the time. There's nothing your father could read in her head that she wouldn't feel comfortable saying aloud. Unfortunately."

"Clearly there is because Jacob thinks you're right when you're not." I stomped my foot because they still only looked amused; it was a family trait that always made us look ridiculous, even if it felt good. "She's hiding something from you and from him."

"Is this because of Jacob? Because if that dog upset you—"

Daddy was always too overprotective and was always a little uncertain about letting Jacob take me places, but I was used to it by now. Everyone was always a little uncertain about letting the two of us be together—everyone including Jacob himself. That was why Leah was always hovering even though she didn't want to be within a hundred feet of me, even though no one wanted to explain to why.

"This isn't about Jacob. It's about Leah!"

Mommy and Daddy looked at one another and then stared wordlessly into each other's eyes. All the married couples in my family did it, sometimes for hours on end. We could be here for days; it had happened before. Luckily, this time they remained in control of their urges.

Mommy gestured for me to sit down beside her as Daddy stood up and kissed my forehead. "I think it's time for a little girl talk." He left and I reluctantly sat down beside Mommy. Everyone in my family had their own realm of expertise. Mommy's was Daddy, which was usually just embarrassing for me to listen to, and I didn't see how Daddy applied to this situation.

There are some trials a daughter was duty bound to endure, so I sat down and waited to be blessed with my mother's wisdom. It was _not_ forthcoming.

"Are you jealous of Leah, Nessie?"

"What? No! Mommy...please be serious."

"It's okay, Nessie." She only ever called me that when she was trying to get on my good side; she must have figured I would be so grateful that she dropped that horrific moniker I would go along with whatever she said. "I know it's hard to see Jacob spend time with other people, but you have to know that what you mean to him."

"Mommy." How could she be so dense? "She's his beta. He's explained what that means. There's nothing to be jealous of."

Even as I said it, I began contradicting myself. Because there _were_ things to be jealous of. Lots of things.

She could read his mind. Jacob was mine but she was the one in his head, she was the one who knew his innermost thoughts, she was the one privy to his darkest fears and deepest secrets. Her, not me. He told me things he would never tell anyone, but he didn't even have to tell her. She just knew. She knew everything about him and I didn't.

She knew every move he made before he made it. It was impossible, the way the shapeshifters moved together. Every step was so perfectly in time they resembled a marching band when they walked, every beat in faultless harmony. Jacob always reacted when I moved, but it wasn't the same thing. With Leah it was an unconscious behavior, the two of them simply doing what came naturally, reorient to the other. With me, Jacob instinctively reacted to whatever I did, but I had no idea how to react back. It wasn't fair.

Mommy would say that knowledge would come in time, but Leah had me beat there, too. She had the knowledge already. She was a woman. And like Uncle Emmett liked to say, she was a knockout.

It wasn't just that she had breasts—enormous breasts—though my seven year old body couldn't compete on that level at all. And it wasn't that she muscled and thin and beautiful and Jacob regularly saw her without any clothes on. All that was frustrating and humiliating, but I had time to grow. Jacob would wait for me and I was lucky enough that I was going to grow up to be even more beautiful than Leah. It wasn't just the way she looked.

It was that she looked perfect with him.

They looked like they belonged together and that wasn't jealousy or delusion. It was fact. When they stood beside one another they were spectacular to behold. They had the same inky hair, the same glowing skin, the same gleaming teeth—they were Alpha and Beta, ying and yang. She was even the perfect size to fit right under his arm.

How could I hope to compete against that?

Jacob liked me better but it was hard to remember why sometimes. Very hard not to be jealous of the woman who always seemed to be at his side, who could help him and look pretty at the same time, despite how I tried to banish those thoughts. Just because they had the same sense of humor and secret smiles didn't mean anything.

"Are you sure you feel that way?" Mommy asked. "Jealousy could explain why you dislike her so much."

"It's her that doesn't like me," I muttered.

Could jealousy explain that?

But why would Leah be jealous of me?

The shapeshifters were the natural enemies of the vampires, and personally I thought the Quileutes had the better abilities. They weren't slaves to the blood like my family was. She couldn't be jealous because I was part vampire.

The house we lived in was very nice, much nicer than the tiny apartment Leah rented in Seattle. But then, she sometimes got to stay with Jacob when she came to visit, so she got the better deal. And she always called my family out of touch snobs, which I think meant she wasn't that impressed with our wealth. She had everything she could want anyway—my family always tried to help the less fortunate.

I grew quickly but she often said it was a shame that I was missing out so much of my childhood and I don't think she was saying it just to bother my Jacob; she spent too much time trying to convince him she didn't mean it for it not to be true. Was she jealous that I was a child? That was too ridiculous to contemplate. She was forever stopped at the prime of her life. There could be no jealousy over that count.

I was smarter than she was, even if she was older, but I don't think she cared about that either. Academia had never been her ambition. A few community colleges courses so she could get a decent paying job was her only interest in higher education. In a way, _I_ was jealous, because it was yet another thing she had in common with him—my Jacob barely graduated high school. I was already taking correspondence courses from Harvard.

There must have been something! Something I had that she didn't and that she wanted desperately. I tore around the house, looking for inspiration.

Not freedom which she had in abundance and I didn't. Not clothes, or homes, or jewellery, or anything material, which she simply didn't want. Not loving parents which we both had. Mommy said it was sometimes complicated sharing Charlie with the Clearwaters but everyone seemed to manage all right. The more guardians the better, so Leah couldn't mind.

Still thinking furiously, I barely heard Uncle Emmett come over and sit beside me on the couch. Sprawled was perhaps the more correct term, though even Uncle Emmett couldn't do something as graceless as sprawl. One more reason for Leah not to envy me; she could be both extremely graceful and incredibly klutzy. Her genes didn't dictate her movement.

"You look thoughtful, Nessie," he said. "Wolf-boy forget to take you to the zoo?"

"That's tomorrow," I reminded him absently.

Leah was going to come with us, too, because appearances had to be kept up in public. She had complained, said that Jacob had promised to take the pack to some car show or something equally pedestrian. But she was still coming. Jacob was the Alpha and she never refused him...

Uncle Emmett didn't quite know what hit him when I jumped in his lap and threw my arms around him, kissing his thick neck and broad cheeks. Using my special gift, I sent waves of happy memories over him, to thank him for his brilliance.

"What was that for?"

I only smiled as I hurried to my room. I wanted to be alone to savor my new knowledge.

What did I have that Leah couldn't?

Jacob.

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TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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Delighting knowledge was something I did instinctively, but there was no point in keeping knowledge to yourself. It should be shared, like how Daddy would answer questions my Jacob thought in his head. I tried to follow the example of my parents whenever I could. It was my duty to share wisdom with others.

That was why, as the three of us sat on the bench outside of the ice cream parlor in Forks, I announced:

"Leah wants you, my Jacob."

The werewolves on either side of me went silent and I watched as the ice cream dripped down my Jacob's hand. It was going to be a sticky mess if he didn't clean it up soon.

Leah's loud, barking laughter interrupted before I could say anything. She tried covering her mouth, but it didn't stop the noises coming from her. She giggled and snorted as she slowly slid from the bench and I looked to Jacob to do something before she fell and hurt herself.

He was chuckling quietly, though when he caught me looking he tried to stop, looking almost guilty.

"She's creating a scene," I warned him.

"Right," he nodded, still trying not to smile. "Leah! Stop it. You're hurting my feelings."

She snorted again. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm..." She took a deep breath and tried to stop. Looking me in the eye, she asked, "Do you even know what that means?"

"Want. To feel a need or desire for. To wish. Example: I want an ice cream cone to satisfy my hunger. See? I know what it means."

"Remind me to tell your parents they need to get cable," Jacob muttered. "Knock it off, Leah."

"But, Jake, I feel a need for you. I can't help it, it's just so overpowering. Babysitters are just so...desirable."

He threw his napkin in her face, which didn't stop her from laughing. It was a shame—he was never going to be able to clean his hands now, as Leah didn't bother stopping the napkin from falling to the floor, forgotten. Instead, she leaned back on the bench and said:

"You should start paying more attention when your Uncle Emmett talks, okay kid?"

Daddy said the opposite, that I should never listen to my Uncle Emmett because he was always speaking inappropriately. I did not bother to explain this to Leah.

Jacob was explaining, "Want doesn't really apply to human beings, Nessie. Since people aren't like ice cream, you don't…I'm _not_ going to say desire, but…uh…wish. You don't wish for people the same way you wish for ice cream. So just…please never say anything like that again."

"Okay," I promised. "What would be a more appropriate word choice then?"

Before my Jacob could answer, Leah leaned over and said, "Hey, Jake? Since I want you so bad, can I lick your cone?"

"Nessie?" Jacob asked me. "Could you be good and make sure not to move, no matter what happens?"

"Of course."

No sooner had I promised than he reached around me and shoved his ice cream cone in her hair. Her eyes went wide in horror and she tried to smear hers on him, but he has anticipated her attack and slipped out of her reach. She started to say something, but caught herself and just stood up with a silent huff of frustration.

With as much dignity as she could muster, she swiped the ice cream off her . "Excuse me," she said stiffly and marched into the store to clean up. Jacob waited until she was inside before he sat back down beside me, laughing all the while.

"That wasn't very polite," I admonished.

"No it wasn't," he agreed. "You know, Ness, Leah doesn't not like you because of me. She doesn't even...it's not _you _she doesn't like. It's the idea of you."

"Because my presence means that you cannot belong to her."

He cringed, leaning back on the bench, slouched down, long legs sprawled out in front. He no longer let me sit on his lap and I missed it. It was Leah's fault for making him self-conscious about it.

"It's not about me," he said at last. "It's what you mean to me. It's...me always having to leave everyone for you. Because she's my friend, just my friend, Nessie, but she wants—Leah doesn't have an imprint. I do. Everyone else does. And it's hard for her to have to watch everyone else have something she can't."

That made some sense to me, even if I did suspect he was incorrect. Leah's dislike of me was not theoretical. It was concrete. But Jacob's comments set my thoughts in motion.

"Does she resent my childhood because she lacks the capacity to have children of her own?"

An expression crossed Jacob's face, something it took me a long second to identify because I had never seen it directed at me before.

Rage.

He stopped it abruptly, but that couldn't erase what I had seen. I don't think I ever could forget the sight of him like that. When he spoke to me then his voice was hoarse, filled with more anger than I thought my Jacob possessed, though he was trying to stop it.

"Remember how we talked about how there were some facts that should not be brought up? Remember, Nessie? That's one of those things—one of those things you should never, _ever_, bring up. Especially in front of Leah. It would hurt her feelings and we don't want to do that."

Of course he didn't. She was following him around, after all. I didn't explain that to my Jacob. I was a little nervous, unsure what I had done to earn his ire and because he was talking mostly to himself now.

"It's not like we even know for sure. She's so stubborn she won't talk to Carlisle. How can she know for sure if she won't even go to the da..rn Doctor."

"Grandfather says it wouldn't make sense for the single female of a species to be infertile," I added. "Uncle Jasper says you're not a species, but I guess it really depends. Father was supposed to be infertile, too."

"Right." Jacob grimaced. "Why don't we just not talk about fertility?"

"I find it interesting. And I don't understand why I can't talk to Leah about it. Aunt Rosalie and I discuss her inability to bear children. It is irrational to deny the existence of a problem."

"Just because they're both scary doesn't mean Blondie and Leah are the same person. I don't know why your Aunt feels comfortable talking to you about it. I really don't care. Leah is _not_. So I'm asking you to never bring it up with her."

"If you would prefer me not to, of course, my Jacob." I found a more comfortable position on the bench as I explained: "I believe Aunt Rosalie discussed her problems with me as a convenient segue into her fears. She is very worried that once I cease to age I will be unable to conceive. Would you still love me if I was unable to bear your children?"

It was strange. Leah chose that moment to come out of the store and Jacob practically ran to greet her instead of answering my question. "Yell at me later," he instructed. "Nessie wants to know if I'm going to love her if she can't have my kids."

Leah snorted and then hit him in the shoulder. He winced, but she rolled her eyes and forgave him for his mean trick with the ice cream. Instead, she flopped down on the bench beside me.

"Jacob's going to love you no matter what, kiddo. You've got to know that. He loves you even though you're half his sworn enemy. There's clearly nothing he won't overlook when it comes to you."

Here she stuck out her tongue at him and he hit his arm in the strangest way, which somehow made her laugh.

"Is that one of the reasons you dislike me on a theoretical level?" I asked Leah. "Because I'm part vampire? Mommy said you were always the most discriminatory."

"Discriminatory?"

"It means—"

"She knows what it means, Nessie," Jacob interrupted.

"That judgmental bi—eing." Leah gave a half-shriek, which attracted stares from the rest of that walkway.

"And your dislike for Mother is another reason?"

"Okay, first off, I am not the one who continuously treats people like their sole purpose in life is to make me happy. Second, yeah, I don't like your mother. I tend not to like selfish bimbettes who couldn't find their way out of a shopping mall if their husbands weren't with them. But I'm not going to take it out on you, kid. Give me some credit."

"But you don't like vampires," I pointed out. "And I'm a vampire."

"Part vampire," she said.

"Most vampires aren't like you and your family, Nessie," Jacob said. "They kill people. Innocent people. There's nothing wrong with not liking that."

"You're eight now, right kid?"

"Four," Jacob corrected her. I hated how he always kept track of my age in years. No one else did. I was so far beyond the maturity and intelligence of the numbers that it was ridiculous of him, but no one seemed able to convince him otherwise.

"Eight and a quarter."

"Have your parents talked to you about their past? About everyone's past?" she asked quietly.

"You are not explaining to a four year old that her family's a bunch of—" Jacob caught himself in time. "—leeches."

"I know how they've killed people, my Jacob. Of course I do. There are no secrets in our house. They've told me everything."

"They just haven't explained what it means," Leah muttered.

"Father and Aunt Rosalie only killed bad people. Everyone else it was just an accident. Really, Leah, it would be petty to blame them for it."

I think Jacob was going to change the subject, but my comment made him decide to sit back down beside me and take my hand. "That doesn't mean it didn't happen, Nessie. It doesn't mean there wasn't a family who wasn't missing their father or mother or son or daughter. It's great that you're family is sorry about what they did, how they work to atone for it—" Leah started to cough, but my Jacob didn't seem to care "—but it doesn't erase what happened."

"Maybe Jacob's a better person than I am, because he can forgive them for that," Leah said. "But the fact is I won't forget they're murderers."

I saw Uncle Jasper's tortured face and still thought Leah was being a little ridiculous to hold a grudge like that. But then I remembered Kate and Tanya, after their sister had been murdered and I understood a little more. Because it was different if that dead someone was your sister. The werewolves were much more connected to humanity than my family could ever be, no matter how many human gadgets we had and maybe Leah saw them all as her sister. That made a little more sense. That was acceptable then. There was only one flaw.

"Mommy isn't and you like her least of all."

"She treated Jacob like crap," Leah said bluntly. "She said she loved him and then she used him and she didn't care. You don't do that to people you love. You just don't."

"He doesn't love her that way anymore." Mommy had long since given up the tiny claim she had once had on my Jacob. "And if he didn't mind, why should you?"

"Nessie," Jacob said, "If you got hurt, maybe you would start to cry, but then your Grandpa would fix you up and you would feel fine. But me and Leah, we would feel just awful. For days. We wouldn't forgive ourselves for letting you get hurt. It's like that."

"So she wishes for you, like I said," I concluded.

The two werewolves glanced at each and then sighed as one. Jacob pulled me to my feet as Leah collected the napkins that we had left on the bench.

"Maybe I don't like you because you keep repeating annoying things," Leah said as we stood up to begin the long journey back home. My Jacob would carry me when I got tired since we had decided to walk to town today.

"Simply because you find the fact annoying does not invalidate my observation."

"You know what? Fine. Jacob, my darling, I am hopelessly and completely in love with you." She threw her arms around his neck. "Sweet, perfect, wonderful Jacob, run away with me. We can travel off into the sunset, to bask in our love for all eternity."

"Oh, Leah, beloved, lead the way. Hell would be paradise if you were by my side." He wrapped his arms around her waist, even as they thoughtlessly moved, Leah walking backward, Jacob following easily, both gazing into each other's eyes. "You are the most dazzling, perfect woman I have ever seen and I long to be with you forever. Oh, sweetheart, say you'll be mine?"

"You two aren't funny," I snapped. "Not even you, my Jacob."

In between bouts of laughter, he apologized, casually, as Leah and him kept up the cliché love-speak for rest of the walk home.

Neither cared that their arms were still around each other.

Annoying imprint.

Annoying-er imprint's pretty beta.

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TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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Going to a museum with my imprint was always fun. Going to a museum with my imprint and his stalker-beta-friend-secret-admirer-sidekick was less fun.

Even if she was essential. As much as I loved seeing the old paintings, my Jacob could barely keep his eyes open as we walked through. I wasn't sure what he would have done if Leah hadn't been there to hit him continuously, as part of whatever juvenile game they were playing this time. They acted like children, but I was too captivated by the gorgeous works of art to mind much.

We stayed there for most of the day, my Jacob carrying me on his shoulders when my legs got tired. He always had trouble getting through doorways and with me on his shoulders it was impossible, but we managed. Leah warned me she wasn't going to catch me if I fell, but my Jacob would never let me hurt myself so I wasn't too worried.

When the exhibit finally closed, we headed back home. The shapeshifters tended to run everywhere, but when they were with me, my Jacob liked to borrow Daddy's cars because it was more civilized that way. And he loved his silly little cars. Most of my family had their own collection and I didn't see what the fuss was about, but I climbed into the passenger's seat anyway.

Leah didn't complain about sitting in the back like she sometimes did. Today she was content to lie there and take a nap while Jacob and I sat in silence, enjoying one another's company. When he stopped in front of the McDonalds, it was exactly what I wanted and seeing a reminder of our bond made the sting of always being ignored a little less biting.

"I'll get a table," Leah said, slipping out of the car.

"What do you want?" Jacob called after her. She just made a rude gesture. He muttered something under his breath and then glanced at me apologetically.

"I live with Emmett," I reassured him. "I've heard that word before."

"Yeah, but...just don't think about it in front of your father," Jacob said as we stood in line. "I don't think he'd like that."

"Why? She is a canine female. Aunt Rosalie says it's only scientifically factual."

"That's what Blondie says? I'm thinking I need some new jokes. So how do chicken nuggets sound?"

"Good." He continued studying the menu as I glanced around the half-empty restaurant. It was getting late; the sun had long set and only the artificial fluorescent lights illuminated the room. Leah was in the center, her legs up on the chair beside her. But she wasn't alone.

I watched as the man stood above her, a look on his face that made me feel a little uncomfortable. Leah was glaring, which wasn't a new look for her, but there was a challenge in there that I didn't understand. Leah rolled her eyes and the man looked down until she said something sharply and he looked back at her face. Even my super hearing couldn't pick up the conversation, though I could tell the man was asking something and Leah was refusing rudely, as was her want.

"What are you...?" Jacob's voice trailed off as he followed my eyes. I glanced over at him, just in time to see an amused smile begin to form.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Someone might end up leaving here in a body bag," he said, before he turned around judging how long the sole person in front of us would be. He seemed unconcerned.

"I don't get it."

"Good," was all he said.

No it wasn't, I wanted to tell him. Leah evidently understood what was happening, so I should be able to, too. I was the smarter one. The man was still talking, but now Leah was getting annoyed—I should know, it was the expression she always wore when she was around me. She stood up, towering over him, hands on her hips, chest jutted out. I didn't need enhanced hearing to know what she said, for her expression was all too familiar. She wanted him gone. Yesterday.

"Leah is about to go homicidal. Again," I muttered to my Jacob.

He did nothing, not until we got our food. Only then did he head back to the table. Leah and her new friend stopped talking abruptly when my Jacob approached. The man took one long look upwards, a longer look on the hand Jacob put on Leah's hip and then he spun around and made a hasty exit.

"What was that about?" I asked.

Leah just leaned into my Jacob, tilting her head up so she could whisper in his ear, through clenched teeth: "I could have taken care of it."

"Sorry. I didn't want the hassle of trying to explain how a werewolf magically appeared in the middle of a restaurant. Next time, I won't interfere."

"I wasn't going to phase. I can verbally tear people to shreds too, you know."

"I know. I know too well. But my way was faster and didn't require grown men crying in public places. It's not my fault I'm more intimidating."

"Oh, please. I'm scary."

"Yeah and some guys like that." As I watched, my Jacob gave Leah a look that was very similar to the one on the other man's face. Like she was the hamburger. Only this time, Leah didn't seem to mind at all. "Come on. I brought you food. You have to forgive me."

She snorted but sat back down, kicking a chair out and gesturing for me to sit even as she reached for the fries straight off the tray Jacob offered her.

"Classy, Leah."

"It's your bad influence," she shrugged, wolfing down the food.

Watching the shapeshifters eat had always been something I find a little...distasteful. Animals was the only word I could think of and that didn't feel very nice so I tried to stop. But would it really kill them to pick up a fork once and a while? I used the plastic cutlery to cut the chicken into tinier pieces as the two of them fought over the ketchup like it was being rationed out.

"You interfered to stop Leah from killing that man," I announced, still puzzling. "But your hand was not secure enough to hold her back. It was placed on Leah for other reasons. What were those reasons?"

"It's part of game grownups play," Leah said. "A stupid, sexist game where guys think they own you."

"Shut up, Leah. Nessie, I was just...reminding that guy that it wasn't just Leah he was bothering. She has a friend, though I still don't know how that happened."

"It's 'cuz I'm so sweet and gentle."

The two of them smiled and pretended they weren't.

"You were pretending to be her boyfriend," I realized. Finally, those unintelligent television programs were paying off. "That man wanted to be Leah's boyfriend. You pretended you were instead."

My Jacob looked a little embarrassed. "Maybe. Just to get rid of him."

"That's why he was looking at her funny. He wanted to be her boyfriend."

"You might be giving him a little too much credit, kid, but that was the general idea," Leah said as they continued to eat.

Boyfriends looked at girlfriends like they were hamburgers. I catalogued the information away for future use even as I cross-referenced my newest information with related articles. The connections were a little startling. "My Jacob? Are you going to have to one day look at me like that man looked at Leah? Because of the imprinting?"

His face took on a greyish tinge, as he explained, "No. That's not—that's—"

He turned to Leah and I instinctively followed suit. She leaned forward, holding my eyes. "Nessie. Imprinting just means that when you grow up Jacob could be your boyfriend. But so could, like, six billion other people. Jacob could be your boyfriend, Nahuel could be your boyfriend, Random Dude could be your boyfriend...you could even freak your parents out and I could be your girlfriend. If you wanted, I think I would become a lesbian just to see the look on your mother's face..."

"Leah..."

"Anyway, the point is that imprinting is just another option on your never ending list of options. Okay? Jacob is nothing like Creepy Pit Stain Guy." She dropped her voice, but I still heard her. "If he was, I would kill him myself."

"Thanks," he muttered. He actually sounded grateful.

Nothing Leah or I said could lift him out of his sulk for the rest of the meal. Barely five minutes later, he announced: "Come on. Let's go home."

"I'm not done my beverage," I pointed out even if I hadn't wanted to drink it. Needless to say, the werewolves had devoured all five combination meals by now.

"Bring it with you. We've got a long drive back," he told me. Leah shook her head at me, like she was giving me some kind of warning and even though I wanted to, I didn't dare ask what she was warning me about in front of Jacob. I didn't have any girl friends—I played with Claire when I was little, but no one else since I had outgrown her—but I thought this might be what the books were referring too when they talked about girl things.

Jacob was already out of the restaurant, but I hung back so that it was just me and Leah. "He was upset."

"He has to be everything for you, kid," Leah said, bitterly, the way she said everything, as we walked to the door. "You're way too young for this crap and it's freaking him out a little bit. He's worried you might want him to be your boyfriend."

"My Jacob does _not_ have to worry about that. I...boyfriends are..." my vocabulary deserted me. I was left to conclude, "...they are icky. Besides, Daddy would kill him if he was my boyfriend and I don't want my Jacob to die."

"Please. Jake could so take him." Leah grinned. "Right. I'm the mature one. I'm glad you're not going to start dating at the age of four. I'm sure your parents will be too."

"Leah? How come you don't have a boyfriend?"

She actually laughed. "Kid, you see me once every two weeks. If that. I do have a life outside you, you know."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"What?" She wasn't really paying attention, as the car finally came into view.

"I don't have a life outside you."

It was only when Leah accompanied my Jacob and I that we could go out into public. She looked at me then, in a way she hadn't looked at me before. Then she sighed and pushed my hair behind my ear.

"We'll work on that, okay, kid?"

Jacob pulled up just then, so I didn't have time to ask her what she meant. It didn't sound threatening the way Leah's ideas usually did, so I didn't protest, even as she got into the backseat.

What did Jacob see when he looked at her in the rearview mirror? Did he see what the man in the restaurant saw? Would he ever see me that way? As much as I didn't want him looking at Leah that way...I didn't want him looking at me that way either.

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TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: So this chapter took a while because I went back and forth on how much exactly would Nessie know if she knows everything. She's four. She's the most special kid on the planet and her parents should be able to protect her from everything. Why would you teach your daughter things aren't always perfect if you didn't think you had to?

In other news, I finally figured out where at least part of my inspiration for Nessie must have come from. Anybody ever watch _Bones? _

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Chapter 5

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"This idea is insanity."

"Thanks, kid. We didn't understand you the first hundred times."

I rolled my eyes and worked to ignore Leah even though she was sitting in _my_ seat in Jacob's car. The shapeshifters had failed to explain that travesty, other than to say it was necessary. That was only a small part of why I wasn't speaking to Leah. Instead, I leaned forward, straining against the unnecessary seatbelt and looked at Jacob.

"You're being foolish, my Jacob."

He took on hand off the steering wheel and ruffled my hair. "Yeah. But you're going to have fun so that's all that matters."

"And what happens when my parents find out? Or the Volturi? Should we discuss the repercussions of this harebrained scheme of yours? Because they are bad, my Jacob. Very, very bad."

"Euro Trash are not going to care that you went to the playground," Leah announced. Her hand was out the window and I couldn't help hoping it would catch on something and she would be unceremoniously wrenched from the car. "Just because you're scared..."

"I am not! Just because the two of you have been afflicted with psychosis doesn't mean I have. I am merely pointing out—"

"It's okay if you're scared, Nessie," my Jacob said in a softer voice. "It's okay. It'll be hard meeting other kids. That's why me and Leah are going to be there the whole time. If it ever gets too bad we will—"

"It won't be bad," Leah interrupted. "You translated Shakespeare into languages I can't even say. Making friends is a snap after that."

"That's because you've done it before."

Jacob reached one giant hand behind him and clasped mine. The gentle squeeze was supposed to reassure me, but all it did was make me more nervous. I did not need higher expectations to disappoint.

"This idea of yours is unnecessarily cruel, Leah. Persecution is not appreciated."

The shapeshifters were quiet for a moment. Then... "This is my idea, Nessie. Not Leah's." Jacob looked apologetic, but firm. "Don't blame her for something that is my fault."

"But—but you do not want me to suffer, do you my Jacob?"

The car stopped and Jacob turned right around, taking both my hands. "Nessie, I never want you upset. But you need to do this; you need to meet people who aren't...us. Leah came up with an idea of her own. She wants you to go to South America, to meet the other vampires like you. Would you rather go to South America?"

My eyes narrowed. That was an unfair choice and he knew it. I could not very well leave my Jacob behind; he would be unable to function without me. Unless she helped him and that would be unendurable. Pursing my lips, I gave a quick nod.

"I will go. But I will not like it."

"Good girl," he murmured. He glanced at Leah and the two of them exited the car, in unison, as usual. Of course, she wanted to ship me off. With a sigh, I got out of the car as well.

Jacob noticed my downfallen expression. "Chin up, Nessie. You can do this. You're the bravest girl, I know. I love you. Everyone loves you. You're going to make these kids love you."

"Even if he is biased," Leah said as she came over, "Kids aren't very picky. Just nod and run around and they'll like you well enough."

I pouted but I knew when I was utterly defeated. They were going to make me go to the playground in Forks and they were going to make me enjoy it. Even if they had to go behind my parents backs. There was a very good reason why I could not interact with humans and even the reckless shapeshifters had to acknowledge that.

"There's just two rules, Nessie," Jacob said bending down to look me in the eye. "First, no eating the other kids. Ever. If you feel the urge, take a step back or call for me and Leah and we will be there so fast...don't worry about that. Just try and not eat anyone."

I nodded. Unlike the rest of my family, I rarely felt unbearable cravings for human blood. But sometimes if I got distracted and I was hungry I forgot I was supposed to be a good girl...

"Second rule. Listen up, Nessie, because this is important. No words over two syllables."

"What? That restriction is superfluous and—" Both Quileutes looked unimpressed. "Your rule is dumb, my Jacob."

"Good job. Anything else?" He looked to Leah, who shrugged.

"It would be great if you didn't just demand the other kids do what you want."

I groaned. "Leah, you're pessimism is not appreciated at this time." I took a deep breath. I could do this. Human. I could think human. "You suck."

Jacob glanced at Leah, suddenly looking a little nervous. "Should we have brought her a toy of some sort, make her look cool?"

"She'll be fine, Jake. She's evil, not deformed."

My Jacob and I ignored her, as I gave him one last hug. He was warm as always and he was the one who had to pry me off. Once I left the safety of his arms I knew what was in my future—awkwardness and fear. Needless to say, it took him a long while to detach me.

"You'll be fine, Nessie. Go on. We'll be right by that rock if you want us, but please go and try. For me?"

I kissed his cheek. "You are very lucky I love you so much, my Jacob. Otherwise, I would report this as torture and you would be in very big trouble."

"Thanks, Nessie," he muttered. "Now go."

I turned around and walked towards the metal monstrosity that could very well be my doom. The smell of pumping blood filled the air, almost drowning out the scent of cheap plastic and dangerous bacteria. How was this enjoyable?

"Do you want to play tag with us?"

There was a blonde girl directly in my path, looking straight at me. Talking to me, I understood. Tag—Jacob and Leah's brief, imprecise lesson on human games allowed me to understand her. Tag—a game children played in social settings. Right.

I glanced at my Jacob quickly. He nodded briefly even as Leah complained, "Where does she get all that luck from? It's just not fair!"

I nodded back as he pulled Leah away, even as she kept complaining.

"Yes," I said.

Then I followed the girl.

There were children everywhere and I was led to a tree. There was a scramble of explanations, a long staring at everyone where I quickly memorized who was my prey though it took them a little longer, and then the blonde who had invited me to play began to count.

The other girls scattered around the playground. I followed suit.

Tag was...I think it was enjoyable. I had to be careful not to catch anyone to quickly for it would expose me as an anomaly; it was also more fun if I prolonged the chase. Also fun, which came as a little bit of surprise, was letting myself be caught. I didn't think I would like losing, but it was not quite the same thing. Mentally assuring myself that I would explore this problem further at home, I stopped caring that it was silly and juvenile.

I had fun.

Jacob and Leah did keep their promise. They were both sitting off to the side having commandeered the park's large rock, looking rather intimidating as they surveyed the playground. It was actually sort of embarrassing. Next time, I would tell them to bring a book, or at least remind them that they should blink occasionally. Not that my Jacob ever would. There was no way he would ever relax his monitoring. Maybe next time I would just get Leah to come. She wouldn't mind accidently-on-purpose not watching me closely enough.

Because I was enjoying myself enough that I really did think I would like to come back. We would have to do it differently, of course. Jacob and Leah were never the most precise organizers, not like my Aunt Alice. They would be less conspicuous if they were active; I would be less noticeable if my clothing weren't off a Parisian runway. But those were tiny details, things which could be dealt with later.

I concentrated on running, instead.

I'm not sure how long I stayed there. After a while, I lost count of the games and the rotations and the movement of the sun. It was a long while later, I think, when it was my turn to be It again. But running after the others reminded me of hunting so I enjoyed it; unlike some of the other girls, I never complained about being It.

Standing by the tree, closing my eyes, I began to count to twenty. Just because I was trying not to use my vampire enhanced abilities, didn't mean I could turn them off. Even as I counted, my ears were picking up the sounds of the park behind me.

"Don't put that in your mouth, Susie."

"Not fair! You promised. Candy! Candy!"

"Smooth, Jake. No wonder the kiddies can't resist you."

"They just don't get tired! I don't know how much longer I can keep pushing this swing."

"Why do the water fountains never work around here?"

"Trust me, if I was flirting with you, you would know."

"I want to go on the teeter-totter. Now!"

"You tell the Indian couple to leave. I am staying safely over here."

My eyes opened and I located the voices, two mothers cleaning up a picnic go awry. I didn't really think much about it, just that it bothered me. It bothered me a lot.

"They're brother and sister."

I hadn't met to blurt it out. I shouldn't even be able to hear them, but I had and I didn't like what I had heard. They weren't a couple. Just because they looked perfect together didn't mean—why couldn't these people understand?

The women stared at me. I hadn't meant to walk over, but I had and since I was standing in front of them, I repeated, "They're not a couple. They're brother and sister."

They both flushed, blood pounding to their faces. The one who had spoken asked, "You know them?"

It was strange, but suddenly she sounded like Aunt Rosalie. Not that her voice was anywhere near as pretty as my Aunt's but her tone...it was the way Aunt Rosalie talked to Jacob, the way he talked to her. Similar, but not the same. Aunt Rosalie and Jacob were mortal enemies—my Jacob had never spoken to this human before. And they only talked like that face to face. Never behind each other's backs. When Jacob was gone, Aunt Rosalie's voice didn't sound like this woman's.

The more I thought about it, the more I didn't like it. I didn't like the way they looked embarrassed or the way they were looking at me like I was crazy and I didn't like the thing they had said about my Jacob—or Leah. I didn't like what they had said about Leah, either. I was the only one allowed to hate Leah for dubious and unnameable reasons. I didn't analyze the feeling much.

I went to bite them instead.

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TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

My Jacob picked me up while I was still in the air.

It was such a smooth movement that I barely noticed that I wasn't moving forward, that I was being spun through the air and into his arms. It was only when the heat engulfed me that I realized what was happening. He was already moving us away.

"Sorry about that," I could hear Leah saying. She didn't wait for a response. From my perch in Jacob's arms, I could see her jogging to catch up with us.

"Put me down, my Jacob," I asked. He just kept walking. "Put me down. Now."

"We're going home, Nessie. You were right, this was insane. We're going home."

"But—" Despite my reluctance to come, I found myself horribly disappointed to hear that. "Please, my Jacob. I have to say goodbye."

"There will be no eating of the little children," Leah snapped.

"I wasn't going to eat anybody. Please, my Jacob, please. I almost have friends now. You can't—"

"I won't let you hurt anyone, Nessie. I'm sorry."

We had reached the car now. Leah opened the car door and Jacob pushed me onto the seat, the two large shapeshifters blocking any escape attempts I could conceive of. Not that I would. Instead, I attempted to explain: "They were mothers. And they—"

"To be fair, Jake, we didn't tell her she couldn't eat the parents."

"I wasn't going to eat anybody," I insisted.

Jacob sighed. "Nessie, you were jumping, teeth out. I've been out hunting with you enough to know that you weren't just stretching your neck. You were lunging."

"I was just going to bite her," I protested. "I wasn't going to hurt her."

I was fairly certain my intention had not been to do bodily harm. Partially sure, anyway.

"Well, that's okay then." Leah rolled her eyes. "Honestly, kid, what were you thinking? You were doing so well."

"If you don't want to listen to me you don't have to."

Jacob knelt in front of me, talking my hands in his. "I'm sorry, Nessie. If you have an explanation, we would like to hear it. It just better be good."

I wanted to stick out my tongue, but I grabbed Leah's hand instead. Holding onto both shapeshifters, I transmitted what had happened.

The two of them stiffened perceptibly. Ever so slowly, Leah turned her head, while Jacob's jaw clenched tighter and tighter until I was afraid he was going to hurt himself. They were both utterly silent, but on some invisible signal, they looked at each other.

Leah turned and walked back to the park.

"Leah," Jacob called. She stopped abruptly and spun around, glaring, daring him to stop her. "No phasing. No getting yourself thrown in jail. No stopping until she cries."

Leah's face lit up. If I thought she looked evil before, now she looked worst. "Yes, sir."

She stalked across the playground, heading straight for the women who were still cleaning up. I would have felt sorry for them, but I had just been forced to abandon the only friends I had ever made because of them. They could try and deal with Leah. I was happy to give up the honor for a moment. Jacob picked me up and set me on the trunk of the Porsche, where he leaned back on his elbows as the two of us watched Leah tower over the hapless women. Their faces were pure terror. Maybe I was a monster—I enjoyed it far too much.

"I'm sorry about this, Nessie. We were hoping to keep you away from the idiots of this world for a little bit longer, but what are you going to do?"

"It's not your fault, my Jacob. Not yours at all." If Leah hadn't been with him there would have been no coupling, but I didn't say that. The tone might have been the same and it was the tone that was somehow the worst. "It is funny how you always do this."

"Do what?"

"Allow Leah to be cruel on your behalf." I pondered my own statement further. "Is that why you allow her to speak rudely to me?"

"What?" He turned on his side, still leaning over, but now looking at me and not at the woman whose face was turning bright red as Leah continued her tirade. "The reason I'm not over there myself is because if I started yelling at some woman half my size people might not like it no matter what stupid thing she said first. Other times, yeah, maybe I do have Leah say what I would like to—but there's no stopping her from speaking her mind and I don't always have that freedom. There are certain expectations since I might...never mind.

"But, Ness? If Leah's saying something and it bothers you, just ask her to stop. Rude is just sort of how she talks to everyone, so I don't always notice when she's doing it to you. But if you ask her nicely, she'd stop."

I disagreed, but merely said: "Can we please discuss why you and Leah were so upset by that woman now?"

"Yeah. So...some people suck."

"Very articulate, my Jacob. I understand completely now."

"You couldn't have waited until you were ten before you learned about sarcasm? I get enough of that abuse elsewhere." He leaned back. "Nevermind. So she shouldn't have said what she said. We didn't like what she had assumed about us, just because she saw the color of our skin."

"You are attempting to describe discrimination. Racism. Prejudice," I informed him. "That was what her tone implied. I still...my Jacob? You pride yourself on your heritage and on being intimidating. I do not understand why you should dislike when they combine. You call Leah scary all the time and last week she called you an Indian."

She had inserted a few unflattering adjectives before the noun, but my point was still the same. They did it. Why couldn't she?

"When Leah and I say stuff like that to each other, we're just...we don't...okay. Example time. You know how yesterday I told Seth to get his werewolf head out of the clouds? I wasn't saying that because he's a werewolf, he's absent-minded. I'm saying that he just happens to be both a werewolf and sort of out of it."

"That seems a peculiar distinction to make. How am I supposed to deduce what is acceptable and what is not?"

"That's just one of those things you learn as you grow up," he shrugged. "You did good today. You knew by the way she said it. You knew she was making assumptions about us as human beings just because of something she could see and not because she actually knew us."

I worked through his convoluted explanation. Never before had I realized nouns could be so tricky. Seth was a shapeshifter. Yet he was not like Jacob, and completely distinct from Leah. That was what my Jacob was taking about.

"I believe so. Knowing your heritage does not imply a greater understanding of your personality. We have conversed and played on numerous occasions. That is why I can make judgements on you but that woman cannot. I know you intimately, not just as a nameless shapeshifter. Correct?"

"Sort of. But we prefer the term werewolves," my Jacob said as he winked.

I filed that away for future reference. An excited giggle from the park drew my attention; that could have been me. It was disappointing to see the other girls still enjoying themselves. My disappearance had not disturbed them. Why should it? Only some of them had talked to me. The redhead had giggled the whole time. But the blonde had been very articulate for a child of her age—

"Oh!"

"Nessie?"

"Humans aren't all the same," I told my Jacob. "They're...some of them are silly and some of them are scary and some of them are fun. Right, my Jacob? They're all different."

"Of course they are. Vampires are different, werewolves are different, why shouldn't humans be different?"

"Because they aren't special. But they are. They are special, just not like me. Oh, my Jacob, how come you didn't tell me this?" He didn't understand the intuitive leap I had just made for the first time, so I explained it for him. "I thought they were all like Grandpa Charlie. Very nice, rather quiet, not so bright. But Grandpa Charlie would never not get along with you, even though you are much darker than he is. He would never giggle or run around just for amusement sake. He would never be foolish enough to try and interrupt Leah when she was angry. They are not all like him."

"Charlie's not the only human you know," Jacob reminded me.

"But Claire was a child and Sue is related to Leah. Of course she would be anomalous. Only she is not atypical, she is merely Sue. Just as you are my Jacob and Mommy is Mommy and Daddy is Daddy. I am so glad I discovered this. Really, my Jacob, you should have explained this before now."

"I am so not cut out for this," he muttered. I took his hand and tried to silently reassure him he was the bestest imprint in the whole world, but that didn't seem to help him. "I don't know, Nessie. I barely have any of this worked out for myself, let alone for you. I'm very sorry."

"I understand, my Jacob. Some researchers suggest that the brain of a human male is still in a state of adolescence up until the age to twenty-five. You still have time to develop, if your werewolf genetics would allow for that in the first place."

Jacob narrowed his eyes, but managed a slow: "Thanks."

"Maybe your brain's state of perpetual adolescence is the reason you are unable to function unless continuously staring at Leah's breasts."

"I—I don't—"

My Jacob was never very loquacious. I saved him the trouble. "I know. That's one of those things that we should never, ever, under any circumstances talk to Leah about. Right?"

I didn't expect his fingers on my sides, tickling me without warning. I tried squirming out of his grasp but that didn't work and eventually I had to let out shrieks of laughter as he tortured me mercilessly.

"You think you know everything, don't you, Nessie?" he teased as he tickled me.

When he stopped, I had to tell him: "I'm beginning to suspect I have been misinformed about some matters."

"You suspect?" He was giving me his easy Jacob grin. "I guess we have to start somewhere."

Leah was almost finished, her voice having dropped much lower so that she could deliver her final threats without the knowledge of the hastily assembled crowd. We didn't have much time left.

"I am never going to be able to return, am I?"

"No. Leah's making pretty sure of that."

"That is unfortunate. I...I enjoyed myself today. Being with the children, even when they did smell delicious. It was fun."

"There's a playground in La Push...Sam might not—I can get around that. Most of the kids already know each other so it might be harder to make friends but...we could try that. "

"I would like that."

"I'm glad."

We drifted off into silence as Leah finally finished saying what had to be said, before marching back to the car. Jacob rolled himself up off the truck and helped me down from my perch, a smile somewhere between proud and admiring on his face. When Leah appeared before us, she absent-mindedly cracked her knuckles as she announced:

"Today was a good day."

"You're evil, Leah Clearwater. Amazing, but evil."

"Obviously. I recommend we leave before she recovers enough to try to talk back and I have to explain how she's brain-dead all over again."

"Sounds good. We still have a couple of hours left. What do you want to do, Nessie?"

What I really wanted to do was to go hunting, but that would require leaving Leah and finding one of my aunts or my mother. Normally this would not have been a problem, but Jacob and Leah both looked so content at the moment I couldn't make him send her home. Instead, I shrugged.

"We could get ice cream. If you two would promise not to be annoying."

They both put on the same fake-innocent look.

It was exasperating but...Leah might have been a pain, but she was my pain. I stuck my tongue out at the woman in the park and let Leah take my hand and bring me to the front seat of the car.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

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I hadn't meant to tell Daddy what had happened. I knew my parents and I knew the werewolves and I knew that nothing good could possibly result from informing one of the activities of the other. Of course, Daddy could read minds. He tried to pretend he couldn't most of the time, but not always.

Not today.

Jacob had barely walked me to the door when my father appeared. He looked livid.

"You took her to a park?"

With a sigh, Jacob pushed me inside. Leah stopped walking towards my Jacob's car and joined us. Though I was surprised she was voluntarily entering my family's home, I could only feel grateful. My father looked like he would like to hurt Jacob and that couldn't be allowed to happen. Whatever Leah's faults, she would never allow my Jacob to be harmed. I hoped.

The three of us were led unceremoniously into the piano room where father tried to have us sit down on the couch so he could yell at us. It might have worked when I was one, but my Jacob was older now, older than Daddy in a way, and Leah was still in a bad mood. The shapeshifters had the same expression and I didn't need Daddy's power to know what they were saying—you have got to be kidding me.

"What's going on?" Mommy said, coming down the stairs. It was strange that they had been in the main house while I was away. They usually spent my days with Jacob in our house engaged in activities they used a variety of unsubtle euphuisms to describe. Perhaps Daddy had wanted to play the piano for her. Mommy could watch him do that for weeks at a time.

"Show her, Nessie," Daddy demanded.

I glanced up at Jacob, who agreed with a nod. As I relayed what had happened to Mommy, Leah put her fingerprints all over the piano, before hoisting herself onto it. She had to know it would annoy my father—indeed, he was glaring daggers. Her problem solving skills were sorely lacking.

Just after I showed Leah storming off, my mother broke contact. Instead of my hand on hers, she put her hand on my shoulder.

"Nessie, why don't you go play in our room? Your father and I have to talk to Jacob."

"She's going to be able to hear anyway," Leah muttered, but they fortunately ignored her.

I nodded and went to my father's bedroom where I had to press my ear to the floor to hear, but at least this way Mommy had the illusion of keeping me protected. She was the first one to speak.

"Who gave you the right to make decisions like that, Jacob? You didn't ask us, you didn't tell us, you purposefully told our daughter not to mention it—"

"You would have said no," Jacob's voice was low and pleading. "You would have had to say no, Bella. Because it was dangerous, because it was stupid—but we had to do it. She needs friends."

"She has friends."

"Like who?"

Mommy's silence gave me the opportunity to think of the answer myself. Jacob did not, it seemed, consider my family to be my friends. Or himself. Why did imprints not count? Perhaps because he already had his own special category or because he had been seventeen when I was born—for whatever reason, Jacob was not my friend. There was the rest of his pack, Leah, Seth, Embry, Quil...but they apparently did not count as friends either. Leah disliked me, but I did not think the others did. At the very least, Seth seemed to like me. But then, they were only around me because my Jacob asked them to be. I guess that disqualified them. There were the other vampires I rarely saw and Grandpa Charlie who was a relation. I knew enough to know to dismiss them. Was there anyone else I had forgotten? Doubtful. They hadn't let me see Claire since I turned two and looked six.

It seemed all the evidence did lead to the conclusion I had no friends.

"We would have taken her," Daddy said. "If you had talked this over with us, we would have taken her. _After_ we had made sure nothing would go wrong. If you had discussed it with us, she wouldn't have run into problems."

"You are not going to blame that on us," Leah snarled.

Mommy defended Daddy. "That's not what Edward—"

"Yeah, well it sounded like that's what he meant. _We_ aren't the problem."

"She's _my_ daughter. I'll say what the problem is."

I was only listening, not watching, and I still knew Mommy and Leah could very well could start fighting any second now—Mommy's power was useless against the werewolves and Leah had more practice being aggressive, but Daddy would back Mommy and Jacob...actually, I wasn't sure which one he would back if it came down to it. He might not know himself, which could be why he was quick to interrupt.

"You can't go with her, Bella. Kids pick up on things. Adults might not want us around but kids know they should be scared of you. The whole point is for her to be able to meet people."

Mommy and Daddy protested this assertion and Jacob rebutted their argument. They went back and forth for a long time, until Daddy said, "What seems to be the problem? What is so wrong with what we have been doing that you felt the need to go behind our back?"

"You don't let her do anything!"

My Jacob was not even attempting not to shout anymore. It would have been a very impressive proclamation, except Leah chose that moment to shriek:

"You let her do everything!"

The werewolves were usually much better organized. It was almost disappointing, really.

Somehow, their shouting signaled the rest of the household. I could hear my other family members slowly being draw into the battle. All around me doors opened and closed and the noise downstairs grew louder.

Everyone was shouting at my Jacob and then somehow they started shouting at each other. Aunt Rosalie was criticizing Mommy for allowing him around me in the first place, Aunt Alice was complaining she could never see what was happening with the shapeshifters around so of course terrible things were bound to happen, Daddy was telling Jacob that being an imprint was a privilege not a right so he had better watch himself, Uncle Emmett was making jokes I did not understand which offended everyone in the room, Grandpa and Grandma were begging for peace, Uncle Jasper was complaining their rampant emotions were giving him a headache...

My door opened.

"They get boring after a while, don't they?" Leah asked as she collapsed onto my parent's bed.

As gracefully as I could, I got up off the floor and perched on the side of the bed, looking down at her while she absentmindedly fondled my stuffed cow, my Cowy, which my Jacob had bought me. Mommy kept her on the bed to make me feel more at ease in this house.

"Why are you here, Leah?"

"I finally remembered I don't actually care what happens to you, kid." She winked, like the possibility that I might finally make friends was just one big joke. "Jake's a big boy. He can fight off the bloodsuckers himself. You told him you wanted to go back?"

"To a playground in La Push," I corrected.

"Sam's going to be a royal pain about that..." she was grimacing, but at least she nodded afterwards. "So that's it then. He'll get it for you. It might just take awhile. You got any games or anything? I'm bored."

"You never want to play my games," I reminded her.

"Oh yeah."

Since we couldn't play together, Leah just moved Cowy back and forth over the comforter. I rarely used this room, preferring to stay with my parents in our house. But it was all ready, in case my family wanted to spend the night. When my cow started banging into my leg, I began to think Leah wanted me to provide a distraction to ease her boredom.

The yelling downstairs increased and Leah went a little crazy, playing with Cowy. "Please, Nessie. I'm in the mooo-d for a game."

"Not funny."

"No sense of humor," she snapped back. "Come on, kid. Let's do something."

Still, the yelling continued. It was hard to say no to the cow eyes so I lay down beside the female werewolf. Unlike my Jacob, her heat was not something that made me feel safe. It was uncomfortable, but I could tolerate it for the moment.

Since she wanted a distraction to ease her boredom, I began on a topic that had occurred to me while my various relatives tried to shout each other down.

"You were very upset when your father died, weren't you, Leah? Very upset."

She looked into the deep brown plastic eyes of Cowy.

"Yes," was all she said.

"It was different with you and him, wasn't it? He...he didn't share you."

"What?"

"He didn't share you," I repeated. "You didn't have different people to hug you, to love you...it was just your father."

"I guess. It's not like Jake gives them much of a choice about it. Or anyone else for that matter." Leah made a slight gagging noise, but forced the words out. "Not to be defending Bella, but she can't really stop everyone from wanting a piece of you. That's what you get for being so special, kid."

"I never said it was an adverse position. I was merely making an observation. Sharing is good; everybody says it. I would rather be shared. I was simply establishing for my own understanding the ways that I am different from others."

"Definitely different."

"I do not mind being shared," I explained again, because she still seemed unhappy with the idea. "This way, I get the best of everything. Grandpa and Grandma give the best hugs, while Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper help me to intuit knowledge better than anyone. Aunt Rosalie and Uncle Emmett play with me the best and Mommy and Daddy love me hardest. And of course, you and my Jacob show me the outside world. It is very pleasant having the finest instructors."

Leah looked at me funny for a long time, before slowly sitting up, crossed-legged on the bed. She waved my cow at the space in front of her. Reluctantly, I sat across from her, imitating her position. When I was so situated, she began.

"How many cows do you have, Nessie?"

"One. Is this is in any way relevant to anything or are you merely finding a new arbitrary topic of conversation?"

"I have a point, kid, if that's what you wanted to know. So pay attention. You have one cow. One. Your cow looks like it's surviving all right."

"It is terrycloth stuffed with a synthetic cotton blend. Cowy is an inanimate objects; she cannot survive."

"You let Bella name...never mind. You're missing the point."

"Your point is outlandish."

"You don't even—okay." Leah took a deep breath and set aside the cow. "No metaphors. No examples. Just...you do know that people don't come in pairs, right?"

"Your speech lacks clarity, Leah. Be more precise."

"Just because your freaky family comes in twos doesn't mean the rest of the world does. Just because it's BellaandEdward, or RosalieandEmmett, or JasperandAlice...that doesn't mean it's JacobandLeah. Because it's not. It is very much Jacob. Period. Leah. Period. Sometimes it's Jacob joined by his really super awesome friend Leah, but it's never JacobandLeah. Do you understand where I'm trying to go with this?"

"That seems rather lonely," I commented. "But I understand the crux of your convoluted explanation. You are saying Jacob and you are separate entities. Does that mean Jacob is not the reason you dislike me?"

She made this strange grunting sound from the back of her throat and collapsed back onto the bed, taking my poor cow with her. After a moment where she repeatedly hit herself in the head and I worried that Cowy might not survive, she sat back up again.

"Okay. Let's make a deal, kid. I will fully admit to not liking you if—and only if—you agree to stop bringing it up all the time. Stop talking about it, and maybe admit that I am grown up enough that my reasons have nothing to do with Jacob, and I will happily admit to not being able to stand you."

"But you won't explain why?"

"No...but if you one day blurt out the right answer, I will tell you."

I didn't like the smirk on her face, but then again, I never really liked the look on Leah's pretty face. It wasn't a terrible deal. One admission and one denial was something to go on, at least. Finding another reason besides my Jacob might prove difficult, but I was sure I was up to the challenge.

"Okay. Deal."

She reached out one giant hand and I took it.

We shook.

"We're being exiled," my Jacob said, standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. "Banished. We are to go and never come back. At least until next week, when we can take Nessie where ever she wants."

I clapped before I could help it. The werewolves smiled at me.

"Good," was all Leah said as she got off the bed. "Now take me home because I smell like bloodsucker."

"Yeah, yeah," Jacob muttered. But he came over and hugged me goodbye first. "Make sure you think about how excited you are all week, Nessie. Not to rub it in or anything, but...just remind them that I'm brilliant, okay?"

"And with that we are leaving," Leah announced.

It wasn't even that bad watching her take his hand and pull him from the room. Because I was going to get go a playground again and maybe actually have friends of my own. I slipped from the bed, picked up Cowy and placed her carefully back in the centre of the bed before adjusting the comforter. When the last wrinkle was gone, I slipped from the room and went to reassure my parents I was perfectly capable of being normal.

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TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

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"Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Renesmee, happy birthday to you."

The whole room glared at Mommy as they sang my name, but they did it. She had pitched a fit during my seventh birthday and no one had dared not use it since.

I didn't mind as I only had to endure the torture two or three times a year. My family usually celebrated my birthday every four months, give or take, usually on whatever date my Aunt Alice decided she felt like decorating.

Today we were celebrating my tenth birthday. It was apparently a very singular occasion, since Aunt Alice had imported even more very impressive decorations than usual—I think the balloons had been specially designed in Paris and express mailed across the Atlantic. They were pink and yellow and had blue ribbon hanging from them with RC written across in a fancy script.

The whole room looked as if it were out of a freakishly pink catalogue; I was pretty sure Aunt Alice had taken pictures, so maybe it would end up in one. Every surface was covered in sparkles or streamers. It was beautiful, if overwhelming. But like every year, I smiled as best I could. Mom always complained enough for both of us on her birthday—which Dad and Aunt Alice always celebrated, mostly to be contrary—and though the glitter made me feel claustrophobic and there was a nagging feeling in my tummy that said I didn't deserve this anyway, I didn't want Aunt Alice to feel terrible. I had seen how much effort she had put into today.

She had even created specially printed party hats for all of our guests. My Jacob was currently beside me and waiting with relative impatience for me to cut the first piece of cake wearing a hat trimmed with green faux-fur with a cuddly blue wolf on the front. It made him look almost as young as my parents and sort of sweet.

Or maybe it was just the absence of bitter harpy at his side.

Leah had to work today, but the rest of the pack had accompanied him. Quil and Embry were trying not to pretend they were standing between Uncle Jasper and Jacob at all times, but they weren't the most subtle of bodyguards. Meanwhile, Seth was talking with Dad and Uncle Emmett, laughing so hard that tears were coming out of his eyes.

Seth was my favorite of Jacob's friends. He was always so accepting of me, so kind. He called my family by their names even when the others forgot them in favor of variants of 'bloodsucker.' It was funny how his sister was the opposite—she only called us by our names when she forgot she disliked us. Embry and Quil, Quil and Embry—it was only through intense concentration that I could tell them apart—were both accepting or hesitant or both, depending on their moods, Jacob's most recent discussion with them and my families latest feeding activities. It was hard to keep up with the werewolves.

"Well done, Nessie," Aunt Rosalie cooed as I made the first cut. She quickly took the knife from me. "I've never seen anyone cut cake so well."

"Thank you. Please give the second piece to Grandpa Charlie. He is looking nervous again."

She nodded as I smiled at my human grandfather, which reassured him only a little bit. The game on the flat screen and Sue Clearwater by his side had yet to help him fully relax. It always took him a little while. Sue never relaxed—more like her daughter than her son, Sue rarely looked comfortable when she was with her extended family. Too many stories, Jacob said, though he never explained what that meant.

They were the only humans in the gathering. As my Jacob took our plates from Aunt Rosalie—accompanied by their customary rude exchange that they could recite in their sleep—a question solidified in my mind, more proof for a new pet theory.

We sat down on the porch, on the ground, me and my Jacob. He easily dug into the cake as I picked at mine with the fork.

"Some of the girls in La Push have birthdays," I began.

"Most kids have birthdays."

"Not funny, my Jacob," I reminded him. "They have birthdays and they have parties and they invite each other to them. There are no children at my birthdays. There are barely any humans. Aunt Alice never even asked me if I wanted to invite my friends."

"Did you want to?"

"I think I did. Would you have let me?"

He hesitated, hating to have to say this to me. But he admitted: "Probably not. Your family has had parties before but...children are less careful. We don't want to risk children."

"I see."

"I think Seth said he was planning to learn how to make balloon animals. How would you like a purple giraffe? We can make you a whole entire zoo."

"Thank you, but that is unnecessary. Can we go for walk instead? I do not wish to be festive at this moment."

"Sure, Nessie."

I handed him the remainder of my cake and he finished it in two bites. Once the food had been disposed of, we left the dirty cutlery behind us and headed up the twisted and curving path that led to my family's home. I took his hand, my arm finally not having to stretch quite so much to reach properly. Swinging our hands back and forth, we traveled in silence. My Jacob knew I needed quiet right now.

My prolonged exposure to the children of La Push was contributing to new unfortunate realizations. They had been less accepting than the children of Forks. At first, I thought it was because they suspected my Jacob had threatened their current Chief in order to allow my supervised visits onto their land. But it seemed that children were unaware of the unstable political situation in La Push.

It took me awhile to understand that the girls in Forks had been a strange anomaly. Children preferred the familiar; I was neither familiar nor recognizable. Time had allowed the children of La Push to perceive my unsure speech, my unnaturally proportioned body, my rock-hard skin. They knew I was not one of them. They were still friendly, but not as profusely as the girls in Forks had been. I was relegated to play with the younger ones—one in particular, a girl by the name of Naomi who was inordinately proud to be turning nine in two months. I did not mind as much as they seemed to think I should. They were all far beneath my intellectual and emotional maturity. A few years of physical development did not make much of a difference to me.

My interactions with the children had led me to conclude that my parents had been a little lackadaisical in selecting the proper descriptors of my person.

I was unique, but the word was not special. The proper term was freak.

My family had tried to explain that my assumptions were incorrect, but their furious refutations were too determined; I must be partially correct. Mommy denied it repeatedly, but I sometimes caught Aunt Rosalie unconsciously nodding when I spoke, or Daddy looking sad, or...many ors. With the exception of my mother who firmly did not believe it, my family was simply refusing to acknowledge that I was an abomination of nature.

I did not mind. I don't suppose I could. There was no way for me to understand the world from the perspective of anyone besides Renesmee Cullen. That didn't mean it didn't get lonely sometimes.

At least I had my Jacob. The werewolves were good company to have, if a girl had to be unnatural. They did not truly appreciate the company they provided one another, but my Jacob always took my hand.

Until the moment he heard a sound in the woods—then he was pushing me behind him and sniffing the air. It took him only a moment to identify the smell.

"Leah?"

There was a shriek, a curse, and then a demand: "Close your eyes. Is the kid with you? Of course she is. Send her in. Please?"

"What are you doing in there?" Jacob asked as he dutifully turned around and looked at me. Without words he asked me to do this favor for him, to appease the annoying one. I sighed and then went to help her.

"I bullied someone into taking part of my shift." Using the sound of her voice to guide me, I traveled into the forest. She was standing behind a large tree, a dress half on. "So I came here. But I can't—I need Nessie."

"What do you need?" I sighed.

She turned around and crouched, beckoning me closer, displaying her exposed back. Her hands were holding the two sides of the garment together. "Could you just do up the zipper?"

"Zipper?" Jacob's voice cut through the trees. "You own clothes with zippers?"

"Dresses often have zippers," I told him as I struggled with the material. Her blind attempts had managed to snag the fabric. As I slowly untangled the mess, I couldn't help observing her as she knelt in front of me. "There is a hole in your bra."

"Uncontrollable phasing does that to clothing. At least this one survived," she whispered even as my Jacob called out: "You own a dress?"

Leah reached over, just as I brought the zipper to the top. There was a pair of shoes on the rock beside a tree—she picked up one and threw it through the forest.

It was easy enough for me to see Jacob snatch it out of the air, inches from his face.

"I really hate how he always does that," Leah muttered. Her voice rose: "Of course I have a dress. Being a woman and all."

"I'm still not going to believe this until I see it."

She threw the other shoe. He caught that as well. She sighed and asked me, "Did you do up the hook at the top?"

I hooked up the top of her dress and then she stood up, brushing herself off. "Thanks. Hey, what's with you kid? You look...what's wrong?"

"I am a freak."

Leah blinked then picked me up under my armpits and carried me to the driveway. Jacob handed Leah her shoes while staring down her dress, even as Leah put a hand on his shoulder to keep her balance. She was cleaning her feet and trying to put on her shoes, all the while scolding Jacob. "What emotional trauma have you inflicted on her now?"

"Shut up. Nessie's fine. How come you're wearing four inch heels?"

"So I'm taller than Blondie. She said she was a freak."

"You're always taller than—you're not allowed to steal my nicknames. Blondie is Blondie. Jasper can be...is Scar Face too easy?" He stopped looking at her long enough to inform me: "You're not a freak, Nessie. You're just different."

"She's clearly upset about it," Leah reprimanded. "How about if I call him Blondie Bear? That's cute."

"That's terrible. How about Sunshine?" he suggested. "Nessie is smarter than that. She knows that just because she's different, it doesn't mean it's a bad thing. Calling herself a freak is just a phase. Right, Nessie?"

"I'm always going to be freak," I contributed, because Leah was losing her balance and now his arm was around her waist.

"It's boring being like everybody else," Jacob said as he half-lifted Leah off the ground, trying to help her stay upright. Neither of them seemed to mind.

"And so much better." Leah straightened up, hands running through her hair, attempting to create some kind of order out of the chaos. "Everyone knows being normal is so the way to go."

"You're not supposed to tell her that. Espeacially since it's not true."

Leah decided to end the unserious side of their conversation. Her voice was almost wistful as she asked, "You saying you didn't wish you could wake up one day and have all this be some sort of horrible nightmare?"

His voice shifted to match hers, of course, becoming softer, quieter. "A dream. Sometimes. Not a nightmare, never...it's not that bad. Is it?"

"What do you think, Nessie?" she asked as we headed back to my party. "Nightmare or dream?"

"You're forgetting I have no experience being normal. I can never wake up. This is my reality. Apparently, in it I am a freak."

"You want me to beat the other kids up for you?" my Jacob offered.

Leah hit him in the arm, but only half-heartedly. If I said yes, they would probably end up relying on her brand of torture, not his. But I did not say yes. I could hate the children for teaching me the word, but I was never one to run from awareness. I much preferred knowing to not knowing.

"No thank you."

As we walked Jacob said, "The trick is just to pretend to be normal enough to be left alone. You're family has made that into an art form. You want to be a freak, you just don't want people to realize it."

"That seems rather foolish. Pretending to be normal is futile. Underneath I will always be the human vampire monstrosity. Playing make believe will not change anything."

Leah made a sound that was trying to be a laugh but wasn't. Then she stopped moving, which meant that Jacob stopped and turned around to face her. She was playing with the hem of her dress. "She's right you know. There's not really a point in pretending. There's no point at all. Why are we even bothering? I'm just going to go. I think I have sweats somewhere at home."

He grabbed her arm and then started ordering the two of us around. "Shut up, Leah. Shut up. Don't you dare change. And Nessie? If I ever hear you use words like monstrosity about yourself I will rethink my stance on corporal punishment. It's not true. Jeez. Both of you need to get it through those thick skulls that you're completely amazing the way you are and if that makes you freaks, who cares?"

Leah and I looked at each and sighed. "You're opinion does not count, my Jacob," I informed him as Leah dislodged his hand from her arm and took mine instead.

"Sorry, Jake. But you are wrong," she agreed.

Jacob sighed and trudged after us, not bothering to keep his voice down as he muttered about frustrating imprints and frustrating betas. If wasn't our fault he did not understand that his obvious bias completely invalidated any and all value judgments he made about the two of us. Leah glanced over at me and muttered:

"Happy tenth birthday, kid."

...

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

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Chapter 9

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Of all of the possible reactions I thought our request would illicit from my Jacob, having him burst into laughter was not one I had anticipated. Perhaps I should have; laughter did seem to be his default setting.

He did it in the face of both me and my mother and it took him a moment to collect himself, a moment where both Mommy and me could only wonder what was wrong with him. Our request was not terribly outlandish, rather small in comparison to the favors we often asked. Less ridiculous, too, than prior requests.

That is why I asked: "What is so amusing?"

"Nothing," he dismissed. "Let me make sure I understand the situation first, okay?"

"We've already—" His demeanor suggested he understood perfectly, perhaps more than we had. I would run through his hoops for now.

"Yesterday I received an invitation from Naomi, for her ninth birthday party. It is to be a week from this Friday."

"And it's a sleepover," my Jacob supplied. "You're not sure how it'll go and you want me to help you prepare so you don't run into any unexpected problems."

"Edward and I would be a lot more comfortable letting her go if we didn't think something would catch her by surprise. We're going to be just outside, monitoring the situation at all times, but we thought you could help her too." Mommy did not move but something in her tone shifted. "We are asking you for your help this time."

The amused look didn't go away, though it did harden almost imperceptibly. "Why can't any of you help her?"

"Only Mommy was human in the last fifty years, when children shifted from a source of labor to human beings," I informed him. "None of the others would have experienced the situation first hand."

"What about your Mom?"

"She doesn't remember," I shrugged.

That stopped the smile completely. "Is that true, Bells?"

"I've told you before that our memories fade after we're changed unless we concentrate on preserving them. I...I wasn't much of a sleepover girl back in Phoenix and didn't bother remembering much of that life, anyway."

"Nothing but Edward."

He looked so hurt I wanted to go hug him, though I didn't. It wasn't me he was thinking about; he would never have directed such a look of disgust or betrayal my way. It wasn't me he wanted a hug from.

"And you," my mother said quietly.

They looked at each other for a long moment, a very long moment, before Jacob started laughing again, much different than before. I suddenly wished Leah had been punctual today—she would have known how to get the two of them to stop...whatever it was they were doing. I doubt she would have liked it any more than I did. Once Jacob had finished, he turned to me and gave me a real smile.

"So none of the vamps can help. What makes you think I can?"

"You are very good at playing human," I reminded him.

"That's because I am," he reminded me. I nodded, silently apologizing for my mistake. My Jacob didn't mind, just leaned back. "As much as I'd love to help, you seem to have forgotten something."

"What?" Mommy asked. She was just as confused as I was and it was nice not to be alone in puzzlement for once.

"I'm a guy."

"I don't—oh." Mommy must have understood for she frowned. I did not. My Jacob sensed that, since he further explained:

"I have no idea what ten year old girls do at birthday parties. No idea at all. No, you need something else."

"You have a suggestion?" Mommy accused him.

"Of course. Anything for Nessie." He was grinning like a maniac again. "Now, what you need, Nessie, is a woman. One who's willing to explain this to you, even if she isn't always polite about it. You need someone who remembers the experience clearly because she's a girlie-girl, even if you shouldn't actual say that to her face if you don't want to be attacked. You need someone well versed in high-pitched squeals and makeup, who likes playing dress up and watching chick flicks. You need—"

"You want me to ask Leah for help?" I interrupted. Jacob looked like he could continue talking all night.

His grin got wider, if that was possible. "That won't really be necessary. I'm sure your Mom can persuade her to help you."

"What did I ever do to you," Mommy grumbled. "Isn't there anyone else?"

"We've already established that there isn't. Anyway, what's wrong with Leah?"

"We don't have that much time."

Both of them turned to look at me and I blushed. I hadn't meant to say that out loud, exactly. Jacob laughed while Mommy frowned.

"There's no need to resort to that, Nessie," she scolded lightly. "Even if she does constantly abuse you."

"Bull," Jacob said easily, even as he sat up to his full height so that he now towered over Mommy. As calm as he sounded, it was very clear he didn't want to hear her ever say that again. "I wouldn't let her near Nessie if I thought Nessie couldn't handle it."

"Thank you," I said, even as Mommy complained, "My daughter shouldn't have to put up with her crass comments, Jacob."

"Think of it as expanding her vocabulary," Jacob said, standing up. He held his giant hand out to me and I took it. "For Nessie's sake, you should ask her, Bella. Think about it. Nessie is going to show me how well she can play the piano now."

"I'm not very good," I warned him. "I only started playing yesterday."

"And yet somehow I'm sure you're still incredible."

I was nowhere near close to prodigious, even if I played as if I had been practicing for years. It was always effortless for me to imitate activities, once I took it into my head to learn them. Imitate, but not duplicate. I was nowhere near Daddy's incredible standard. There were hours of practice in my future if I wanted to be as good as him.

I did. The pianoforte was a beautiful instrument, ours especially. My Jacob sat down on the bench beside me as I positioned my hands over the gleaming ivory keys, trying to emulate Daddy. I took a deep breath to prepare myself. A brief introduction—"This is Clair de Lune, a favorite of my parents"—and I began.

My hands had not yet developed completely, which made it troublesome to allow for full expansion across the keys. I managed Debussy well enough, despite my limitations; well enough for Jacob, at any rate. The sheet music was open in front of me; I referred to it twice. It was rather embarrassing. My vampiric memory should have served me better. I had read the song over right before my Jacob came. I should know it.

"I will not tell the other girls I play the piano next Friday. Is that correct?" I asked once I was finished and he had stopped his effusive praise.

"That's probably a good idea. Or just complain about trying to learn. Kids don't like sitting still."

"How can they not love learning? Or creating art?"

He shrugged. "It's boring. And when you're ten, it's not really art." He sat up straighter. "Do you hear that? Leah's finally here. Play another song so we look busy."

I did his bidding as the sound of moving tires was replaced by the sound of bare feet walking up my family's porch.

"Sorry I'm late," Leah called as she entered. "Thank you both for getting up to come greet me. You always make me feel so welcome. What are you doing here?"

The last was directed at my mother who maintained her calm and invited Leah to her side, requesting the opportunity to discuss an important matter with the female werewolf. Leah acquiesced without a fight, though she did glare a particularly malevolently glare at my Jacob before stalking towards the other room.

"I have to see her face," my Jacob apologized to me as he slipped from the seat. I sighed and began playing louder, just in case he needed me to hide his footsteps from Mommy and Leah. He gave me a thumbs up but I just rolled my eyes at the twenty-two year old man slipped along the wall like a five year old child, snickering to himself.

He made it just in time. No sooner had he peeked around the corner than Leah's voice carried into the room:

"Seriously?"

Mommy repeated the request as I began a different song. It was pages and pages long and I was playing larghissimo and still I finished before they did. Leah could be most impolite when she chose to be. Even my Jacob grew bored of listening to them.

He had returned to me by the time Leah stormed back into the room. She stood behind me on the bench and hit my imprint in the back of the head. He flinched, even more so when her hand came to rest on his shoulder and her nails started digging into his flesh.

"I better not be the only who got roped into this."

He reached for her hand, took it and led her around so that she was standing beside him instead. "Nope. We'll all be there. You can explain to the whole pack how to be a little girl."

She tried to pretend she wasn't laughing. "They are going to kick—they aren't going to like this."

"It'll be worth it."

"Embry _would_ look better with a little lipstick," she admitted. The two of them grinned at one another, still holding hands. "Edward's gone for the day?"

"Out hunting," my Jacob confirmed.

"Good. You should make sure Bella's okay. I don't mean to yell at her, but I just can't resist."

My Jacob stood up, standing much closer to Leah than was necessary to deliver his message, hands _still_ together. Neither noticed how I was fudging my way through the song, too busy watching them to watch what I was doing. "Try not to abuse Nessie while I'm gone."

"She said that?" By the time she stopped being too furious to hit him, my Jacob was gone. With him out of the room, she plopped down in the seat beside me. "I really can't stand your mother."

"She is simply worried that your overt dislike of her will inadvertently influence me, creating a detrimental effect on my daughterly devotion," I told her.

"Really?"

"Oh yes. That's what Uncle Jasper said to Aunt Alice when I wasn't supposed to be listening."

"You little sneak." Leah couldn't seem to decided whether she should be proud or amused or serious and so ended up choosing a strange facial expression that I couldn't identify at all. "Do you actually listen to me when I say your mother's the worst thing to happen to the planet since the Bubonic Plague?"

"I listen; I just disagree. Don't worry, Leah, I am far too intelligent to simply accept what you say without any evidence. I have long concluded that you are far too biased to have any sort of accurate assumptions about Mommy. I'm not going to start hating her just because you do."

"Well...good, I guess. Since when did you play the piano?"

"My father began giving me lessons recently," I told her. My Jacob would tell her the truth later, but for now it was better to keep the peace. She was going to help me, after all.

"You're pretty good."

"Thank you."

Both of us watched as Mommy walked my Jacob to the doorway, giving him a long hug before she turned to go back to our house. They were still talking, laughing, chatting. I turned my head towards Leah so I wouldn't have to watch.

"It is freaky how my Jacob used to love Mommy, isn't it, Leah?"

It was one thing for Leah to wish for my Jacob. It was quite another to know that my Jacob had wished for Mommy. When I was little, I had not thought it mattered. It was over. It was finished. When you put feelings to rest, they no longer existed. Except our truce had not negated my feelings for Leah. Therefore, my hypothesis had not been correct. Feelings did not stop when you required them to. What did that mean for Mommy and Jacob?

"Freaky, twisted, creepy, weird..." Leah smirked, a little. "There are just too many choices."

"I don't like how he used to belong to her. He shouldn't...I don't like it."

"Because it's messed up."

"Distasteful."

"Bizarre."

"Grotesque."

"Kooky."

"Unnatural." I frowned. "Am I always going to be unnatural, do you think?"

"You're always going to be you, Nessie. You're a vampire; you can't help it. I don't know how they don't start boring themselves after twenty years."

"I'm just as much human as you are."

"I'm not part dead. Is that why you're so interested in seeing this Egyptian thing? Do you want to make friends with the corpses? Do you relate to the mummies?"

"This is why Mummy doesn't like you near me. You are quite tedious, sometimes, Leah."

"Did you—never mind." But she was smiling again. Perhaps because Mommy was finally out the door and my Jacob was returning to us. At least his smile grew wider as he approached us. Good.

"We ready to go?" he asked, leaning against the instrument.

I stopped playing, rising up. "I just need to say goodbye to Aunt Rosalie." She was off hiding somewhere upstairs so she wouldn't have to speak to my Jacob; she had not liked realizing there was something he could do for me that she could not.

Jacob helped Leah up, saying, "I told you she would play great. She's brilliant."

"Almost perfect," Leah agreed.

For once, I don't think she was trying to insult me.

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TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: No offence meant to people who like the entertainers mentioned within this story. I used them because they were fairly popular, not because I dislike them. And I in no way own them.

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Chapter 10

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"If the baby genius thing doesn't work out, you could always be an esthetician."

My Jacob laughed as Leah examined her freshly painted nails. "Could you stop encouraging my imprint to drop out of school?"

"What? Have you ever seen nails painted like this? They're gorgeous." She sighed. "Too bad I'm going to ruin it when I phase."

"Girl," Embry muttered.

"I'm so glad you finally noticed. Don't pout just because a five year old is better at putting on nail polish than you are."

"Why does Jake get to just sit there?" Quil complained. It was not the first time. He and Embry had been whining since they arrived, even more so when Leah ordered Embry to paint Quil's nails a horribly vibrant pink. Embry had given a rather impassioned speech about the Geneva Convention, which my Jacob had easily overruled by just telling them to shut up.

"He's supervising," Leah shrugged. Actually, my Jacob and Seth were currently trying to kill each other in a virtual world that was actually fairly disturbing.

"I'm figuring out how I'm going to afford the cars I promised you for doing this," he said. The distraction did not prevent him from blowing something else up. I was beginning to believe that Leah's reluctance to allow them to play video games had not been misguided.

"Daddy can buy you cars."

Leah stopped examining her nails long enough to snarl, "Your family can shove their money up—"

She got a pillow in the face. Seth smiled at me, before pretending he had been engrossed in the game the whole time. Leah must have known who threw it, but she was much less inclined to fight with her brother than the rest of the pack, so she focused her attention on Quil and Embry instead.

"You guys done?"

"Finished," Embry sighed.

Quil sighed, too. "Just because I have experience doesn't mean—"

"Oh, shut up already and give me your hand." Leah arranged both her and Quil's hands beside each other. "See how Embry couldn't always stay completely on the nail? And how his brush strokes aren't always perfectly straight?" I studied the two sets carefully, trying to memorize all the differences. There was a tiny bit of pride at how much better I had done, but poor Embry had tried so I said nothing and focused on Leah's instructions. "You need to do somewhere between the two of these. Nice, but with a few mistakes. You ready to try that?"

I nodded. She smirked. "Jake! It's your turn."

My Jacob came, ceding success to Seth, whose victory dance was one of the stranger things I had seen in my abnormal life. Embry dove for the abandoned controller while Quil dove for the nail polish remover.

The werewolves had been much more accommodating during the arts and crafts portion of my training. Destroying Leah's bedroom seemed to amuse them much more than putting make up on each other did. It was only after the PVA glue and sparkles had been put away that my Jacob and Quil had carried the television into the room, so they could play video games.

Since I already knew how to watch videos in company, mostly, Leah had decided we would go through the other possible activities that I might have to endure. I had learned how to get glue on inconvenient surfaces, how to paste popsicle sticks together at forty-three degree angles and how to draw like Quil (everyone assured me was the gold standard of a ten year old). Now we had moved on to make up.

My Jacob had overruled Leah only when she suggested teaching me how to talk about boys, saying that since Naomi was only turning nine, it was unnecessary. Her point had been that I looked eleven and would soon be attending those sorts of sleepovers and she was only doing this once. He had not relented, so she had simply advised me to make sure my parents did not eavesdrop when I went to twelve-year-old sleepovers.

"Just because you were a slut," Embry muttered.

Seth hit him in the arm, even as my Jacob wrapped his hand around Leah's mouth, muttering something in her ear until she settled for just glaring at Embry instead. He was too busy rubbing the spot on his arm to care.

Everyone had made it this far into the night, intact. Quil settled down beside my Jacob, their legs pressed together, declaring: "This means you can't make fun of me anymore."

"I've never had to wear a tiara. Don't get any ideas, Nessie," he ordered.

"I won't. Aunt Rosalie wouldn't let you near her tiaras, anyway."

"Finally, Blondie is good for something."

We settled cross-legged across from each other, his back against Seth's, while Quil had his hand on my Jacob's shoulder, displaying the sort of enthusiasm that he usually reserved for particularly crude sporting events. Leah was scrutinizing us too, but that was in order to make sure I followed her instructions properly.

I preferred to work mostly in silence, but Leah said that wouldn't do for when I was surrounded by others. She had made the men shut up when I painted her nails, but apparently that was different.

"A little more over the cuticle, kid. Did you do your homework like I asked you to?"

"I did. I still do not understand why Miley Cyrus should be my role model."

"Beats me. Kids get stupider as the years go by."

"You liked the Backstreet Boys," Seth reminded her. "You had that huge A.J. poster on your wall, remember?"

"That's different," Leah said. When I glanced up, she was blushing. She hit Embry in the back of the head when his laughter got too loud. Quil and Jacob contented themselves to smirking at each other. "Whatever. The kiddies today like her and the Jonas Brothers. You need to know all about them and their creepy parents who know if they're virgins or not."

"Do you remember when Britney was a virgin?"

"Or Simpson? Glad she gave that up and started washing cars—"

"Imprint," Jacob snarled to the room at large. They shut up.

Leah continued, "It doesn't matter if you think she can't act, can't sing and can't dress. She is your new idol. You want to be just like her. You watched all that stupid show like I told you?"

"I actually sort of liked _Hannah Montana,_" I admitted. "It was funny."

Seth turned around, having destroyed Embry. "You know who I really love? That evil little kid—the one who works at the Surf Shop. How he's always plotting? He's my favorite."

I giggled as Quil protested, "Rico? He's a total dirtball."

"I'm going to pretend I went deaf," my Jacob announced, "And didn't hear that. Because it was just..."

"Sad," Embry supplied. Jacob and Leah nodded.

Quil looked embarrassed, but Seth asked me, "Who's your favorite?"

"Lilly. Her squeaking is amusing. And Dad finds her less offensive. He and Mommy disapprove of Miss Cyrus."

"Speaking of sluts," Embry joked.

My Jacob waved his hands around to let the first coat dry, but managed to hit Embry with the palm of his hand anyway.

"Not be defending a Disney princess, but seriously?" Leah put her head on Quil's shoulder. "No one's business. If her parents let her date the twenty-year-old guy, why should we care? And the whole Vanity Fair thing was blown out of proportion."

"It was picturesque." The four of them turned to stare at Embry. "Oh come on, I just meant—"

Jacob and Seth were already on top of him, laughing and punching, in some strange orgy of limbs. Quil and Leah were trying not to snicker, though Leah did call out: "Like we don't have enough creepy pedophiliac undertones as it is."

"Thanks, Leah," Quil said, poking her in the stomach while she cackled.

"My Jacob does not touch me inappropriately. Sexually or otherwise."

"What?" my Jacob demanded, sitting up from on top of Embry's chest. He even released the hold on Seth's leg. "How do you know what—you know what Leah's talking about?"

"Daddy taught me. After you explained racism, he felt I should understand about other... objectionable occurrences. He said he wanted me to be prepared to grapple with the ugly underside of human society." After my recitation, I opened my eyes to see that my Jacob was shaking. Shaking terribly.

"So he taught you about pedophiles?"

Leah grabbed him and hustled him out of the room. The door had barely shut before I heard him shout something at her. I cringed and the three werewolves in the room with me looked at each other for a moment before Seth went to turn up the volume on the television. The synthetic soundtrack to their game seemed to be on continuous repeat. It was annoying and unhelpful; Jacob and Leah had never learned to keep it down.

"Which is your favorite Jonas Brother?" Quil asked me. Even Embry was pretending to be interested in the conversation.

Since I had no response, they debated the merits of Kevin—they had a brief argument if it was Kevin or Keith, which I had to settle—Joe and Nick. It didn't quite drown out the sounds of my Jacob and Leah arguing, but it did help somewhat.

But even three boisterous werewolves couldn't prevent me from noticing how the wall shook.

"Leah," Seth muttered. An answering bang was greeted by Embry: "Jake."

"At least they're almost done," Quil muttered.

"Why does she need to calm him down?"

All three of them looked down. It was Quil who responded. "We know your parents just want to keep you safe, but you know Jacob would never hurt you, right Nessie?"

"He would sooner hurt the rest of you and he would die before he did that."

"Good."

"What's good?" my Jacob asked as he walked back into the room. There was a very forced, but not unpleasant, smile on his face.

"How you keep me safe," I responded.

That seemed to please him for he sat back down where he had been before and showed off his ruined nails. "Why don't you grab me the remover and start again?"

"Is Leah okay?" Seth demanded.

My Jacob looked offended. "No, I let her drag herself to a hospital. Of course she's fine. She went to the kitchen. I think she made brownies. We have to practice snack time, too."

"Awesome."

Not awesome. He was still upset, so disturbed that Seth had felt the need to inquire after his sister's safety. My Jacob would never hurt anyone who wasn't a dangerous vampire and yet the other werewolves seemed to think he would hurt Leah. That meant he was even more distressed than I suspected.

I did not know what to do, for I did not understand why he was troubled. That my father had taught me something unpleasant? It was usually a duty the werewolves took on themselves. Why would he be upset this time?

His friends set about distracting him in their usual way, with insults, violence and video games. He, Embry and Quil were one fighting heap of limbs when Leah came back, as Seth tried to instruct me in the ways of the Play Station.

His sister offered him a plate full of brownies, effectively distracting him from my tutorial. She was also carrying a couple of bags of chips, which she handed to me even as she kicked the three men wrestling across her floor. When there was room beside me, she sat down, stealing the brownies back from her brother. "No matter how old you get," she explained, "Chocolate really is a girl's best friend."

Despite being completely unscientific and despite my dislike for solid food, it turned out Leah was right.

Chocolate made things better.

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TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Notes: I realized I called Sue Charlie's wife, so I went back and changed that. Charlie and Sue are NOT married; they are living in sin while continuing to own their two respective houses. Just to clarify.

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Chapter 11

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"Chocolate is evil."

"Twenty pounds of sugar usually is," my Jacob said, brushing my hair off my face. There was probably spittle in it; he was a very courageous man. "Do you think you're finished?"

Closing my eyes, I tried to do a physically inventory. At just the thought, my stomach lurched yet again. This time at least my digestive juices stayed put. Bodily functions were foul. I was begging to be turned into a full vampire the second I arrived home.

"Make it stop," I whimpered.

A warm hand gently pushed my head onto his shoulder. The heat was much less comforting than usual—I preferred the cool ceramic of the Clearwater's bathtub. It was nicely situated so I could lean against it while staring into the abyss of the toilet as I retched up everything I had consumed in the past couple of hours.

Throwing up the mostly digested brownies was painful. Heaving up my pre-sleepover snack was even more painful, especially when it came out my nose. When blood was in the nasal cavity, it smelt like copper, dirty, diseased and very smelly copper. I wanted it to go away.

He hummed a little bit as we sat on the bathroom floor. From downstairs there was a rhythmic sound, two steam engines attempting to do battle. Embry and Quil had fallen asleep quickly when Leah had kicked them to the couch after my first incident almost an half an hour before—Seth had retreated to his own bedroom in order to escape the thunderous noise earlier that night and had not been roused since.

"Poor Nessie," Jacob sighed. He kissed my forehead and pulled the magazine Leah had brought in after the second mishap. Opening the glossy pages he stared for a second, then said: "So which dress do you like better?"

"I think they have a crossword in the back."

I was right. My Jacob had a marker in his pocket from an early craft and he began to ask me clues, trying to distract me. Whenever my stomach contracted, I tried concentrating on his voice, trying to keep everything contained.

The door creaked open and Leah pushed her way inside. "How is she?"

"Empty. I hope."

Leah pushed the toilet seat down, now sitting across from me. Leaning over to the sink beside her, she wet a cloth and began cleaning the puke out of my hair. "No sense looking bad even if you feel terrible," she attempted to joke.

"I'm sorry I ruined your carpet."

"It came off," she lied easily. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about anything but aiming for the trashcan," my Jacob advised me.

"I must have a hair tie, somewhere," Leah said, standing. She was careful to pull the toilet seat up; I couldn't help but moan just seeing that mocking pool of water again. The arm around my shoulder's lifted and my Jacob's hand came to rest in my hair, rubbing my head, trying sooth my pain.

It was quite curious that it didn't work.

Leah crouched down beneath the sink. The room was so small that when she opened the cabinet door she hit Jacob's feet and he had to bring his knees even further to his chest. When she succeeded in prying it open, she couldn't seem to find what she was looking for. With a sigh, she hunkered down to her knees and began searching right at the back.

Using the magazine, I hit Jacob in the chest. He could look at her rear at other times. With a quick apologetic smile—and one last glace the only part of Leah we could see—he set about filling in the rest of the crossword.

"_Life with blank?_"

"Derek. I dislike this puzzle. It's not very intellectually stimulating."

"Ha!" Leah scrambled out, trying to smooth down her hair. In her large hand was a black circular band. "I told Mom I missed some. Epic purge my...anyway."

Leaning forward just a bit, she pulled my hair from my face and tied it back. My russet hair wasn't secured as tightly as it could, but at least it wasn't in the way. Hopefully Leah had gotten all the grossness cleaned out first. For the hundredth time I swore never to eat chocolate again.

Just the thought made me moan.

Leah sighed, "It'll stop soon."

"Make it stop faster?" I begged.

The two werewolves just looked at each other and then tried to smile reassuringly at me. They failed. Comfort was not something I could receive at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Nessie," my Jacob said for the tenth hundredth time. Repetition did not make the sentiment adequate. "We'll make it up to you. Anything you want. We'll get it for you."

"Which is so different from normal."

Jacob kicked her ankle, warning Leah to shut up. She didn't seem at all apologetic, just rolling her eyes at him and playing absentmindedly with the toilet paper roll. I left the two of them to argue silently over the proper upbringing of my person while I thought over my wants. Was there anything I could request that would make up for this travesty?

The magazine was still on my Jacob's lap and it provided me with inspiration. Phrasing my request properly was paramount.

"You must promise not to tease me. Or to attempt to dismiss my concerns."

"Promise," my Jacob murmured against my hair. "This sounds serious."

"You're already teasing."

"Am not."

"Are too. And laughing at me."

"Am not."

"Are too. You are still doing it!"

"Children," Leah reminded us. "We don't have all day."

He was probably flipping her off above me head—the werewolves were predictable that way—but they were both laughing. There was no way they would react seriously to my apprehensions. Not even when I was deathly ill would they behave. Settling back onto the toilet, Leah stretched her leg out so it rested on the ledge of the bathtub beside my head. Because my Jacob was being annoying—and starting at her leg—I decided to proceed anyway.

"Could you find me an adult female of limited physical appeal to speak with unaccompanied?" Both of them were puzzled by my demand, but I did not want to explain myself so I just insisted: "Well? If you do so I will consider feeling less upset about my current illness."

"You want to speak to an ugly chick?" Jacob blurted out.

"If at all possible."

"Kim's probably not doing anything."

Jacob sighed and threw the marker at her face, though she caught it easily enough. Seeing as Leah only looked a little uncomfortable and not at all ashamed, he continued: "Why in the world do you want that, Nessie?"

I always did have to explain everything to him. "There are some conversations that I am unable to have with members of my family. And despite all that you do for me, my Jacob, there are some things that I cannot discuss with a male. Therefore, I need you to find me an appropriate companion."

"So talk to Leah."

She threw the marker back at him, even as I rolled my eyes. "Limited physical appeal, my Jacob. Please be more sensitive to my word choice."

Leah seemed less irritated than usual. There was even a pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You think I'm pretty?"

Unfortunately. "Undeniably. Which is why I need to talk to someone else."

"But why would you need to talk to someone who isn't pretty?"

I pretended I needed to grab the wastebasket so I wouldn't have to look at Leah. As my Jacob rubbed my back, I leaned over, fortunate not to feel ill again. My luck did not hold for when sat back, having not heaved up anything, Leah was ready.

"Because you think _you're_ not pretty?"

I glanced at the trash. A few Kleenex, a q-tip, a bunch of makeup remover pads and piles of floss. Why did werewolves need to blow their noses? They never got sick. Directing my answer at the Kleenex, I replied.

"I'm not."

"Nessie..." My Jacob sounded hurt. "What are you talking about?"

"Since I am not an appealing female I must endeavor to understand the world from that perspective. I need to understand how to proceed through life. My family is designed to be the ultimate predators; they cannot help. I need you to find me someone who can."

"But you're—you're the most beautiful girl in the world. How do you not know that?"

"You have to say that," I murmured.

"Everyone says you're the prettiest girl they've ever seen. You're supposed to listen to your parents, or their super-smart friends, or my idiot friends or...everyone. Everyone thinks you're pretty."

"Maybe even gorgeous, kid. Definitely not an uggo."

I grabbed the magazine off of my Jacob and thrust it at Leah. There, in colored pixels, was the proof. She took the papers and glanced down. I was wrong. Even Leah did not understand.

"Oh come on. You're so much prettier than Vanessa Hudgens. Maybe not Zac Efron, but..."

"I told you not to tease me," I cried. "You promised. Stop it."

Jacob leaned over, but couldn't pry my head off his shoulder. "She wasn't making fun of you, Nessie. She was making fun of the four foot Disney 'basketball player.' Never you. Though if you want me to make fun of her for letting you have these stupid magazines in the first place, I can do that."

"Hey, Edward said she had aced her stupid Media Literacy-whatever Course. They promised she could handle it."

"She obviously didn't get the memo because—"

"Look at their proportions," I demanded. Interrupting was the only way to get through to them sometimes.

Leah snorted. "What? Anorexic? Anorexic-er? Or computer generated?"

I abandoned Leah and turned to my Jacob instead. "Look at their heads. Look at their trunks. Look at their lower limbs. Notice the percentage each takes up. Have you never studied my proportions?" He cringed, but I did not let him dwell on whatever unpleasantness had occurred to him. "I am not like the others. I am...Egyptian art. A child conceived as merely a petit adult. It's unnatural and not very pleasant looking. Freaky looking. Shelia says I may not ever grow out of it."

"Who?"

"Nahuel's sister," my Jacob growled.

Since Leah was not as well versed on the other hybrids, I explained. "In one of our monthly letters, Nahuel reported she expressed a desire to communicate with me as well. We began a correspondence a few years ago. She is most amusing. Unfortunately, she says she is still rather oddly proportioned. What if I stay this way forever?"

"Do we know anything about this bimbo?"

Leah evidently didn't care about the important part of the conversation and Jacob let her digress.

"Bella swore she checked her out."

"Like that means anything. Clearly this Shelia is an idiot."

Tired of their bickering—they didn't like my conversing with other vampires—I announced: "I am going to throw up again."

They shoved the trash in front of me. Both my diaphragm and abdomen contracted, creating intense pressure that was released when my esophagus relaxed and the last remnants of my gastric contents were ejected into the trash.

"Oh Nessie," my Jacob sighed.

He took the toilet paper from Leah and dabbed at the side of my mouth, while I used one finger to dab at the tears that had come out of my eyes. Bodily functions were foolish inventions. Taking the glass of water from Leah, I rinsed my mouth, spitting on top of the trash before leaning my head back down.

The distraction should be maintained. "I require understanding of how to be ugly and no one seems to want to teach me. Please help me, my Jacob."

"You really think we're all wrong, Nessie? You think we would keep saying it, even if it wasn't true?"

"Of course, she does," Leah said. "She's always right."

"It is not as satisfying as it you would presume," I reassured them.

They snorted in unison. My Jacob's arms came under my knees and around my back, lifting me up so I was cradled in his arms. "Let's get you to bed—maybe you'll stop being sick if you're asleep. We'll prove you wrong in the morning."

After she picked up the trashcan, Leah opened the door for us. "We can put her in Mom's room. Mine still sort of stinks."

"Where is your mother?"

"Out committing a crime against my impressionable brain. Or ruining my innocence. Take your pick."

"Translation?"

My Jacob obliged. "She's visiting your Grandpa Charlie."

"Oh. Visitation is not a crime. Is it?"

"Good night, Nessie," he said. Leah had already pulled back the covers and he placed me on the bed. He kissed my forehead one more time. "Sleep well beautiful, not always right, Nessie."

I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep as instructed. That he would stay needed no clarification. When the garbage had been placed by my side, I could hear them climbing onto the bed beside me. They argued briefly about which one should get to sleep first, but my Jacob obviously won. At least, I think he did. I was asleep before they decided.

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TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

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Chapter 12

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Waking up was painful. My stomach was still aching, my mouth was parched and my head was pounding from having too little sleep. Nothing was immediately regurgitated, so I was perhaps much happier than circumstances should warrant.

Rolling over, I found Leah sitting against the headboard, reading a book while chewing on the end of a highlighter. She had changed this morning and managed to subdue her hair. Her eyes narrowed as she read, clearly displeased with the material, though even the sound of my moving hadn't pulled her attention away. Only when I called out her name did she put the book to the side and begin studying me intently.

"How are you?"

"Improved. What are you reading?"

"Now I know you're better," she smiled. "Boring budget stuff. Do you think you could get up, or do you want to just stay in bed?"

"I can get up. Where's my Jacob?"

"Making breakfast." I think my face turned green in response, for she hurried to add: "Kidding, kidding. He just went to make sure the dogs are entertained so they stay quiet."

"You have pets? Oh. That's not very nice. Quil and Embry weren't that loud."

"Really?"

"I believe jackhammers are louder. Possibly."

She laughed and got up. Knowing there was no way I could imitate her grace this morning, I waited until she came around to help me out and followed her back to her room to get my overnight bag. The smell of my accident lingering in the air, but it wasn't the acrid stench that bothered me. It was the faint hint of chocolate.

"Can you stay in here and change or do you want to use the bathroom?" My face must have decided her, for she took my hand and quickly pulled me from the room. Pushing me in the direction of the washroom, she went to wake her brother—I knew that because even through the closed door I could hear her shouting: "Seth!"

Sickness was a strange thing, leaving my skin stretched and pinched in ways I had never seen it before. It even left dark circles under my eyes. That was going to be a problem; there would be no hiding my illness from my family.

Not to mention my hair was a puffy fluffy ball of horror. Aunt Rosalie might not allow me into the house.

"Leah?" I asked, sticking my head out the door.

Both Clearwaters turned to look at me and Leah used the opportunity to push her brother down the stairs. At least he was alive to call up death threats. "Yes?"

"Will we be able to fix my hair?"

The apprehension that crossed her face revealed the extent of the damage, but the werewolves were not cowards. Leah nodded. "Take a shower. It might make you feel better. I'll comb it out, braid it up—that'll help until your aunts get hold of you again."

"Thank you."

The hot water did feel nice. I was pleased to find that the heat was no longer repulsive to me; I would have hated having to stay away from my Jacob. Afterwards, I searched through my overnight bag for a change of clothing.

The pink bag that Aunt Alice had packed me was almost overflowing—only vampiric strength had allowed her to close it. Removing clothing for the day, I put away the second pair of pajamas I had worn the night before (Aunt Alice had fortunately thought to pack several as, being unable to see my future, she became rather paranoid about me not being prepared). I had to remember to ask Leah what had happened to the first. After changing and brushing my teeth, I was ready to head downstairs. It was easy to find the werewolves. I just had to follow the noise.

"...and because the entire twelve hour trilogy is really just one big celebration of brotherhood, and Frodo and Sam are its heroes, they are clearly the bromance to end all bromance." Embry finished what had clearly been a long and exhausting speech. "The end."

"Embry, Embry, Embry," my Jacob said, from his seat at the head of the table. "All Sam did was save Frodo from a volcano. Big whoop. _Brian gave Dom the keys to his car._ That's true brotherly love."

"Not this again," Leah begged, even as she motioned me into the room. My Jacob turning around to greet me gave her the distraction she evidently craved.

"How you doing this morning, Nessie?" he asked, coming over and carrying me all the way to the other head of the table. "Feeling better? Anything I can get you?"

"I don't want anything. What were you talking about?"

Leah came up behind me, hair ties and brush in hand, and began combing my hair. "If he ever wants you to watch a movie with the words 'fast' and 'furious' in the title, run away. Run far, far away."

"We're not that bad," my Jacob defended himself.

"No, you really are."

Quil piped up: "Just because you don't appreciate quality cinema—"

Seth snorted, chewing on his orange, "I love the movies, Quil. But they're crap."

Seeing as the argument was escalating—Embry chimed in his agreement and then Quil set about trying to prove why neither of their opinions should count, ever—my Jacob stepped in. "Sick person in recovery here. Knock it off."

"Sick?" Seth looked puzzled. "What did I miss?"

Quil informed him, "Oh man, you missed the Great Spew of the decade. It just kept coming and coming and—shutting up now." He was too late to stop Leah from hitting him. "Sorry, Nessie."

Seth interrupted: "I didn't know you _could_ get sick."

"Oh yes. I caught a cold when I was six and a half. Uncle Emmett had to bodily restrain my father from rushing me to the hospital."

"Cool. Hey, Leah? Remember when I was just a little kid and you tricked me into eating dirt and I threw up all night and everyone thought I was going to die? Good times."

"Trick you? I told you not to eat it and you did it anyway. And you were ten."

"That's your story."

I interrupted their reminiscence of the past. "Why is no one eating?"

The werewolves could be counted on to consume more food than the average professional football team. Yet the only thing on the table that morning was coffee and fruit. My Jacob came back to the table with a glass of apple juice, which he handed to me.

"I didn't think you would like the smell."

"I'm fine," I assured him. "And I do not wish to be around you all when you are hungry. You might eat me."

"Naw," Embry reassured me. "You're just bone. Not very tasty. We'd probably eat Quil."

"Thanks." Quil threw Seth's orange across the table at Embry. That caused Seth to hit Quil, while Embry whined about the food in his hair and then tried to fling some back. Quil and Seth grappled on the floor, while my Jacob called Embry over to help him start making breakfast. Behind me, Leah sighed.

"See what I have to put up with?"

"We could switch. When you want quiet, you can come over to my house and I can stay here."

Not that she ever would. Leah's complaints about their behavior were just another accepted part of the cacophony. Even as she shouted the brush was going easily through my hair now, the tangles miraculously disappearing. Handing me the brush, Leah began to braid. Reminding me to drink my juice, she barked out orders to Embry, warning him not to ruin her mother's kitchen.

Quil and Seth had managed to solve their disagreement—yet another draw—and now sat back down, rooting through the fruit bowl for something more to eat. As Seth took the last grapefruit, Quil asked for banana pancakes. Pancake mix was pulled from the cupboard as Leah begged them not to make a mess. Her concerns were met with laughter as Jacob and Embry pulled out a huge mixing bowl.

Perhaps that was why Leah was relieved to finish with my hair and go order them around from a closer distance. The two relatively thick braids dripped onto my shoulders, leaving my shirt soggy. Sipping my juice, I glanced around the room.

"Is that _Gray's Anatomy_?"

"You've heard of that?" Leah was amused. Of course I had heard of it. Grandpa Carlisle had given it to me for Christmas two years ago. But her next comment left me mystified. "I still can't believe what they did to Izzie."

"Remember how you came over that one night," my Jacob laughed, "Half-hysterical because your TV broke and you needed to watch that stupid thing?"

Quil and Embry made a variety of derogatory comments while Leah ordered them to shut up as she muttered something about a finale. I hated to disappoint, but I disliked being misunderstood even more. "I was talking about the text on the floor. _Henry Gray's Anatomy of the Human Body_. You should be more respectful. It is the most—"

"Oh. That's Seth's," Leah cut me off. "Mom was a little overeager. Though don't you have an actual anatomy test to study for?"

"Saturday morning," he reminded his big sister. "I have all weekend."

"You haven't read it?" It would have been nice not to be the only one in the room who cared about the most comprehensive text on the morphology of the human body.

"Too advanced for me," Seth shrugged. "I don't have to know half that stuff for my anatomy course. Did you read it?"

"Before bed every night, Dad used to read me a few pages and we would discuss it."

Leah started choking in the background, while Jacob made a noise that I couldn't even pretend wasn't laughter, but Seth seemed content to ignore his fellows, so I followed his lead. "You sound like you liked it."

"I like trying to understand humans. You really haven't read it?"

"I browsed a little. Looked up the official name for the funny bone. It almost broke my heart to find out it was just a nerve trying to be a bone. Lame." Seth leaned back in his chair, digging out the meat of the fruit with a teaspoon as I smiled. "Do you remember any of it?"

"All of it."

"Awesome. You want to take my test for me?" He was smiling widely now, but I was a little shocked as he continued: "They're online anyway. No one would know."

"That would be cheating."

My Jacob chimed in from his position over the stove, "It's only cheating if you get caught."

Leah laughed and whipped the spoon she was using at him, so that batter got all over his face. He reached out to grab her as Embry muttered something like "Hail the glorious Chief" but the phone interrupted the werewolves' latest fight. Leah was suddenly untouchable as she went to talk to whomever who had called. From her expression—and her grunted responses—it was easy to guess who it was.

"Bella wants her home in an hour," she announced when she hung up.

The room fell silent, except for my Jacob's cursing. All the werewolves were studying me and finding me wanting.

"We can't send her home looking like we broke her," he said.

The set their collective mind to the problem of trying to convince my parents that they were not at fault for my gaunt cheekbones and weak stomach.

"What about make up? Try and hide it."

"Like there's a cosmetic out there Blondie doesn't own. She'd see."

"Get her to lie. Say she was already sick when she got here or something."

"There's Edward."

"That makes everything sort of impossible, then."

"Unhelpful. What about some sort of bribe? What do the vamps what?"

"Yeah, human sacrifice. Good idea."

"Fu—"

"Boys! Grow up. Just send her with Seth. The Cullens love him."

"Edward did say he'd show me the new Mercedes next—"

"I am not hiding behind your kid brother. I'll bring her back. Is there anything I can say that will just make them want to kill me less?"

"They would not kill you, my Jacob. They would only cause serious bodily harm."

"Well, that's okay then."

"We could just tell them the truth." All four of them turned to glare at Seth. "What? She got sick. Stuff happens. Why would they be mad about that?"

"The words evil, bloodsucking and fiends come to mind," Leah muttered. "No offence, kid."

"I am accustomed to it by now." Bringing us back on topic I said, "While logically my family would concur with Seth, their first emotional response would be to tear my Jacob limb from limb. Since I do not wish for that to happen, you must continue creating contingency plans."

It was Quil who came up with the solution, as Embry brought the first plate of pancakes to the table. "Why don't all of us go with you? They can't kill us all."

With Grandpa and Grandma on vacation, it would be a fair battle. Despite their smaller number, the werewolves were all excellent fighters, while the females of my family were not much use in physical confrontations. Aunt Alice could run quickly, but Uncle Jasper's great fear was that Leah would be faster; his lessons on self-defense contained much speculation on possible werewolf attacks. In this case, he would assume Jacob would come for him, while Seth would attack my father (neither would be willing to fight the other, but they would stall long enough for someone else to come in and finish the job) and Quil would fight Uncle Emmett, leaving Embry and Leah to take out the women. It felt too natural to recall his lectures—and I didn't like imagining my two families attempting to destroy each other—so I resolved to request my uncle cease his war talk around me in the future.

"Anybody mind?" my Jacob asked as he sent Embry to the table with another stack of pancakes. Seth and Quil had made short work of the first, despite lacking plates, forks or any other signs of civilization.

Leah finished for him. "Now that that's settled, could you Neanderthals try not to eat with your hands?"

"But Leah, it tastes better this way," Quil whined.

Seth added: "It's scientifically factual. The taste buds on your fingers enhance the flavor."

Quite proud of myself for realizing he did not actually believe what he was saying and therefore did not need to be corrected, I took another sip of apple juice. My parents would not be too upset, I didn't think. After all, I had learned much about sleepovers, especially the hazards. They would not be too disturbed that I had acquired more knowledge.

My mother did try and break my Jacob's arm, but Dad held her back. He could see that the werewolves were truly apologetic—and willing to fight to the death, because they never could resist the urge for physical conflict. My parents let the wolves leave with just a warning.

Then they ushered me into bed and didn't permit me to leave until three days later when Grandpa Carlisle came back and insisted I was quite all right.

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TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

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"Lady, if you don't shut up—"

"Paying customer here. You might not want to insult me."

"You haven't paid a dime."

"And I don't plan to until you treat me with a little respect." Leah drew herself up her full height and glared at the man behind the admissions desk. "Your out-of-date definitions are frankly insulting. What kind of lesson are you trying to teach my kid?"

The man leaned over and glanced at me, where I tried to give my best simulation of an impressionable youth. It was getting tiring. Leah had been arguing for the past five minutes and showed no signs of stopping. Or even slowing.

Meanwhile, the forest was growing no nearer. We should have just paid the price of entrance and enjoyed ourselves today. Instead, we were still standing around haggling over the price.

Everything would have been fine if Leah had not spotted the tiny writing in the corner, promising a ten percent discount for families. Even before she had announced her harebrained scheme to my Jacob and I, he was groaning. Just like Aunt Alice often did, he had seen where this would end.

"Listen, lady, you need to stop this. That there is not your kid."

"No wonder they pay you minimum wage. Haven't you ever heard of adoption? What sort close-minded asshole are you?"

So here we were, so close and yet so far from the great outdoors. Hiking wasn't something I was particularly looking forward to experiencing, but the werewolves were finally excited about one of our activities and I had been pulled along in their wake. Aunt Alice had even found me the cutest pair of hiking shoes. I was prepared, eager-ish—and possibly never going to get to go.

From behind me, my Jacob sighed. He was content to let Leah argue for now, but I could tell he was growing bored with her antics. The man behind the counter was apparently not buying her fabrication and my Jacob at least knew when to admit defeat.

"She's not your kid."

"That's not how it feels."

"No way in hell they let you adopt. Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Leah's voice had gotten progressively uglier as the confrontation wore on and now she sounded utterly malevolent. Why hadn't the man just given up out of fear? Fool.

Having given Leah permission to play the race card, I couldn't see how he had much of a chance. She was demanding to speak to a supervisor, lecturing him about Native American rights, threatening—he interrupted her before she could pick up enough steam to bulldoze him completely.

"How old are you?"

The question caught her off-guard, though she managed to salvage the situation a little by snapping: "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're what? Twenty-two, twenty-three? He's about twenty-five." She wasn't going to like that, being made the younger partner. Still, the man continued, obvious to his peril. "The kid's what? Ten? Thirteen?"

"Twelve," I chirped. According to Grandpa Carlisle, this week.

The man smacked his hand on his desk. I was annoyed to find my recent habit of assessing the allure of facial features was not halted by his apparent dislike of us. Fortunately, I found him wanting. "They don't let ten year olds adopt. I don't know what you're selling but you need to pay up or get the hell out of my park."

Under the desk, Leah motioned me forward. With a long suffering internal sigh, I stepped forward and recounted the story she had told me on our way into the park.

Reciting all the gruesome embellishments I could recall Leah providing me with, I recounted the story of how my imaginary parents and sibling had been killed in a horrific accident in front of my eyes, only two years before. Then I concluded with: "It was quite traumatic. The psychiatric evaluation suggested that I needed stability in the form of previously known guardians or a full psychotic break could occur."

"Oh baby, it's okay," Leah cried, wrapping her arms around me, pushing my head into her shoulder. In a voice that no human could hope to hear, she whispered, "Start shaking."

I did as I was bid, even as she lifted her head. In a voice clouded with sobs, she spat, "I hope you're happy."

She began to walk us to the side of the road, to better console me, I suppose. There was fence keeping us from entering the park which the two of us sat on, Leah still cradling me to her, hiding my face.

"That was brilliant, kid. Saying the story in monotone was a horrific choice. You're a little too good at acting disturbed."

"I try."

We were both silent, listening as my Jacob finally stepped up and spoke to the man. Ever so calmly, he accepted the man's apologies and offered to pay whatever price was necessary. Guilt-ridden, the man named Leah's.

"Was all that worth it to save a few dollars?"

"You can buy a lot for five bucks," Leah defended herself. "Plus, it adds up, always taking you places. We should save money where we can."

"My parents can afford it."

"Today, we're your parents. So no, your parents can't."

That stopped me. "You are paying?"

"No, the money grows on trees. Yeah, we're paying."

"Oh."

"Oh what?"

She had stopped rubbing my back, so I knew I was going to be forced to answer. Where was my Jacob? Currently engaged in a serious conversation about how difficult it was raising such a vulnerable child at such a young age, but how I didn't have anyone else. He was really getting into it, almost as much as Leah had. Laying it on a bit thick, I thought, but what did I know?

When Leah lightly pinched my back, I knew I had stalled for as long as she would allow.

"I thought my parents gave you money when you took me out. It seems only fair."

"They offered," she shrugged. "But we aren't that broke. We can afford to pay fifty bucks to take you places."

"Our outings usually cost closer to a hundred dollars, what with the cost of food and transportation."

"We let them pay for gas. It's their car, so they should pay for that. Nothing else."

"But why? If you want to save a dollar or two so badly then just get my parents to pay for everything."

"That is completely different. Could he be any slower?" she complained.

Currently, Jacob was receiving condolences about having to endure Leah on a continuous basis. He was quick to defend her, pointing out her selfless behavior in raising poor orphaned me and her skills with—ew—regards to sexual intercourse. Slightly upset that studying my Uncle Emmett allowed me to understand such crude expressions as 'in the sack' I risked a glance up at Leah. She was rolling her eyes and muttering, "Men." That the two men managed to part friends while us females had stormed off in a huff of indignation was not something she apparently cared to address.

Finally, my Jacob said goodbye to his new friend and walked over to join us. He was only a few feet away when Leah stuck out her hand: "Receipt."

He handed it over to her, chuckling all the while. The entire situation amused him far too much. When Leah had finished crowing about how much money we had saved, he picked me up and we began heading down the path. It was only when we turned a corner and the trees blocked us from the man's sight that my 'dad' put me down.

"By the way," Leah said as she took up position in the rear, following behind me as I followed after my Jacob, "Call me a cat again—any kind—and I'll kick your ass."

"Sorry about that," he said, without sounding sorry at all. "But you were pretty horrible to him. I needed a good reason for keeping you around."

He ducked, but the rock still managed to clip the top of his head. "Ow," he muttered, but he did not retaliate.

Since my fake parents had resolved the tension between them, I felt it was safe to ask: "Do I really look ten?"

"Or thirteen," Leah was quick to say. "Loser back there obviously hadn't seen a kid in years."

I didn't understand why she seemed to think I would be offended. It was refreshing to be thought younger than I was; it was too uncomfortable being taken for a miniature adult. Immature looking did not displease me, since at least he didn't think I was some sort of misshapen teenager.

My Jacob turned around and offered me his arm so I could step over a big log that obstructed the path. I hadn't even notice his stride had been broken. My balance was far from perfect and Leah had to place a steadying hand on my back. There was no way I was realistically going to be able to keep up with them.

I couldn't, which is why my Jacob ended up carrying me on his back for part of the way. It didn't slow them down any. By noon, we were so far up that we hadn't seen anyone for almost two hours. We went hunting for lunch, since there was no one around to wonder why a prepubescent girl was attacking wild animals in the company of two almost bear like canines. Afterwards we found a river and washed up; since the two werewolves were never bothered by the cold they decided an after lunch swim seemed like a good idea (I tried to remind them you were supposed to wait an hour after eating before going swimming, but was summarily ignored).

"It almost would have been worth it to pay full price," Leah called as she dried off on the large rock in the middle of the river. How she was going to get to shore without getting wet all over again remained a mystery. But she looked content, so we left her there.

"She can't help being annoying," my Jacob muttered from his seat beside me, our feet resting in the water. Though he occasionally couldn't resist splashing at my feet, he was careful not to get water on my clothing. Without the werewolves natural heating system, damp clothing would be most uncomfortable on me.

"You find it amusing when she is difficult."

He grinned. "Don't you?"

"I am trying to. Personally, I find her much more pleasant when she is being agreeable. She's...she's nice then."

"Nice might be a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?"

"No. Leah can be nice. Even towards me. Just not with any frequency or predictability."

"But that's what makes it so much fun," he shrugged, leaning back so that he was lying on the ground. His hand reached out, as if he was contemplating using his drying shirt as a pillow, but he decided against that foolish scheme. It would dry wrinkled if he lay on it now.

"You make it sound as if it were a game."

"It's not?"

I stopped staring at my soaking feet and instead turned back to look at him. He looked serene, half asleep on the river's edge, despite having presented me with a statement I couldn't understand. Feeling my gaze on his face, he opened an eye and said:

"Maybe she switches it up just to keep things interesting."

"That would be rather eccentric, don't you think?"

"I heard that," she shouted from her perch. "If you're going to call me names, call me quirky, not eccentric. It sounds better."

"They mean the same thing."

Perhaps that was the point. Perhaps Leah's rudeness and her kindness were all her way of saying the same thing. Or was I giving her too much credit in assuming she was trying to say anything at all? The werewolves didn't seem to put much thought into anything, except trying to enjoy themselves as best they could.

My Jacob was calling for her to come back, explaining they had to arrive back at the car before dark or people would start to wonder. She jumped back into the water. Despite the careless gesture, her clothing remained completely above water level the whole way back. She had been paying attention before or knew how to read the river and the rocks that well or was just that lucky. I didn't think it was the last one.

As we put on our boots—my Jacob's shirt had suddenly become an all purpose towel—I mused over my thoughts. Clearly there was still something I was missing, because simplicity was something they slipped into like their fur, whenever it suited them. It was not what was underneath. So what was?

"You're thinking again, aren't you, kid?"

"Everyone is always thinking."

"Not like you," she said as helped me to my feet.

My Jacob laughed as he bent down in front of me. "It's a terrible habit. You have to stop."

"Not funny." I wrapped my arms securely around his neck and he grabbed hold of my legs. "It's not my fault it's taking me so long to figure out how to educate the two of you on proper humor."

"Isn't she wonderful?" Leah drawled. "If you really were adopted, we would have to trade you in for another one."

"Like anyone would be stupid enough to let us have a kid in the first place."

"They'd give you one."

She picked up the pace and he asked me to regale him with stories about my latest adventures with friends. I obliged partially because I was proud of myself for surviving my second sleepover—two proved my success was not merely a fluke—and partially because I was inexplicably worried that Leah would be hurt by the silence.


	14. Chapter 14

Several people have now asked variations of where is this going/how long will it be, so time for a mission statement.

Short answer: Fifty chapters flat. Until Nessie is seven.

Medium Answer: The story ends just after Nessie's seventh/eighteenth birthday, spanning the years from then until now. Five chapters until she's five, fifteen to twenty chapters for the years five and six, and a few to wrap it up. I was considering going longer, but fifty is intimidating enough. During those years…I don't want to say too much, because that spoils everything, but I understand that sometimes you need to have a little reassurance. Drop me a line if you need to know something to maintain interest (but be specific, because I will evade to the best of my ability).

Long Answer: Got really long, so I deleted it. Sorry!

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Chapter 14

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I was spending a quiet afternoon with my family when the doorbell rang. It created a little bit of a stir, disrupting our lives the way it did. There were never any strangers at our doorstep, at our beautiful house in the middle of nowhere. Our friends who did stop by would either call ahead or barge right in. Though because Aunt Alice had not warned us a visitor would be forthcoming, there was really only one possibility.

"Jacob must be here," she snarled. The failure of her gift was not something she took lightly—she resented the werewolves as much as she sometimes resented me.

Even though I was eager to see him, I stayed were I was. Aunt Rosalie and Uncle Emmett had been attempting to create the world's biggest domino structure in our house over the past two weeks or so. They had endeavored to recruit us all, though the other adults took turns feigning interest in the harebrained scheme; I was enchanted even if I was the only member of my family who might make a movement graceless enough to topple the two million stones currently in position.

That's why I remained firmly where I was, though the door was probably for me. Instead, I concentrated on placing the dominos exactly the same distance apart, close enough to hit, but not too close—that would not look as impressive and Uncle Emmett had positioned fifty-six different cameras around the house for the express purpose of immortalizing this event.

Only Aunt Alice was wrong again. It wasn't Jacob at the door. It was Leah.

Grandma Esme greeted her graciously and invited her inside. To my surprise, Leah's reply was courteous (for her).

"Please don't bring in any fleas this time," Aunt Rosalie drawled.

"Hey, I heard there was a blonde who put lipstick on her forehead so she could make up her mind. Was that you?" Leah snapped back just as pleasantly. Standard impolite greeting accomplished, she said, "I can't believe you were serious about this."

"Dead serious, as always."

"It looks great. Are you almost done?"

"We aren't even half way finished. The house is going to be covered by the time we're done. It has to be; we need the square footage. We might even need the roof. Do you want to see it when we knock it down?"

"Sure." Leah stuck her hands into her jeans and smiled in a way that only made her look shifty. "Since you'll probably be busy, how about I borrow the kid for a while? Take her off your hands so you can really concentrate?"

"Absolutely not." Aunt Rosalie didn't even bother to consult me, just gave Leah a questioning look. "Anything else?"

The female werewolf glanced at my father instead. Uncle Emmett had set him to work on creating a mechanism to allow them to go up to the second floor but Dad was eager to abandon the project to instead study Leah. Aunt Rosalie folded her arms, clearly unhappy to be left out of this decision.

"It would be better for him," Leah finally mumbled. "And it's not like she hasn't been to the hospital before."

Grandpa Carlisle took me once a year (when my growth aged me enough to pretend I was my own cousin) and gave me many a comprehensive tour. Medicine was a favorite path of study within my family and when I had expressed a slight interest, they had been quick to support me.

"What about the hospital?" Mom asked.

"Billy's having surgery today. Leah was wondering if Nessie would be interested in keeping the werewolves company as they wait." Twitching slightly, Leah managed to restrain herself, though she clearly resented Dad's explanation.

"Is Billy all right? What happened?" Mom addressed the question to Leah, though once again it was my father who answered.

"The peripheral artery disease has almost completely cut off circulation to his …left foot? Yes. Coupled with the ulcer there, the doctors believe a below the knee amputation is the best course of action."

"That sounds terrible. Will he be all right?"

Leah had enough. "I don't have time for this. Nessie, do you want to come or not? We're mostly just sitting around, but Rachel's being a royal pain so it might be better if Jake had someone to distract him."

"Why don't we all go?" Mom suggested, crawling out from under the piano where she had been hard at work. "I'm sure Jacob—"

"—has no desire to see you. Oh, right. I forgot. Of course he wants to see his best friend right now." All attempts at civility evaporated. Leah was openly snarling at my mother now. "So when exactly did he tell you about what was happening to his father?"

Mom went silent. Part of me was a little glad, for I couldn't answer either. He had not mentioned this at all. We mostly talked about me or my interests; my Jacob had never talked about his father's illness, though I knew enough to suspect it was getting worse as the years went by.

Leah appeared to comprehend that she had been too cruel for she muttered, "Anyways, is it really such a good idea to be a bloodsucker around a bunch of sick bleeding people?"

In the silence, Mom turned to me. Her smile was forced, but she looked me straight in the eye. "Would you like to go with Leah, Nessie?"

My mother really wanted to know if I wanted to go to Jacob, which wasn't even a decision for me. Of course I had to be by his side if he was upset. It mattered not if his messenger was offensive, or Mom felt snubbed. If my Jacob required my presence, as Leah seemed to think he did, I had to go.

"Do you want me to go now?"

"The sooner the better." Leah pulled the car keys out of her pocket. "Good luck with the dominos."

Uncle Emmett picked me up and carried me to the door, so I wouldn't accidentally ruin their plans. He was already eagerly going over all the new things they could try now that I wasn't there, too consumed with his latest amusement to realize how rather callous he was being. Not that I minded, because he wouldn't have truly gotten rid of me even though I did constantly interfere with his games.

"Don't slam the door on the way out," he warned. Then realizing what he had done, he added, "Actually, why don't I shut the door for you?"

Leah tried to look innocent, but failed miserably, so she just pulled me to the car in the driveway. I stopped moving right in front of the door so she had to turn around to glare at me. Even after all this time, with me almost twelve years old (or four and a half years of existence, _Jacob_), I was not very tall and Leah towered over me easily.

"What?"

"I know you're probably troubled, but you have no right to talk to my mother that way. It is rude and vindictive and unnecessary and if you ever speak to her like that again, I will ask my Jacob to order you never to speak in her presence again. Understand?"

In order to look me in the eye properly, Leah had to hunch over. It was fairly terrifying and did not help with my trembling. Her lip pulled back to reveal sharp white teeth.

"Stop shaking, kid. I'm not going to hurt you. I can't; you have all the cards. Maybe it wasn't my best moment, but—"

"You've never been that horrible to her before and you've provided many stunning examples of extreme nastiness in the past."

"_But_ Billy's probably not going to be too happy I asked you to come along. He'd freak if I brought Bella. So I may have panicked. I'm sorry. And I thought I told you to stop shaking?"

"You're scary," I told her bluntly.

She smirked, but tried to hide it. "Honestly, kid, don't ever threaten someone if you can't even pretend you're not scared. They pick up on the weakness and that usually will just piss them off. Got it?"

I nodded.

"Good," she said. "Now get in the damn car."

I climbed into my Jacob's car (that's when I started to suspect he wasn't quite aware of Leah's visit because he wouldn't have allowed her to drive his baby even if his father was having his leg removed). As I buckled myself in, she added, "Next time you try, don't look down at the ground. Hold eye contact."

"Okay." I watched as my house disappeared from view. "You seem extremely agitated. Is everything all right?"

"It's fine," she said. "Just because they're carving Billy up like a turkey..." her voice cracked and she pretended that she had to curse at the car for a little while for being unable to travel as fast as she wanted it to.

"It is fine, Leah. I do not know the exact statistics but I'm sure that the success rate for amputations is fairly high. And even if the surgery does kill him, Grandpa Carlisle can always turn him into a vampire."

I think she would have gotten us into an accident just to highlight her indignation, except the road was clear. That didn't stop her from shrieking just a little.

"Don't say things like that!" She even clutched her heart, as if I had physically hurt her. "Jeez, Nessie! What are you trying to do, scare me to death?" A deep breath, and she began to speak more coherently. "Don't say anything like that when we get to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay." I suppose I could have left it, but I needed her to make sense. "Why not?"

"Are you serious? Why won't Jacob be glad to hear his dad's _probably _going to be okay but if he's not, he can always become a _vampire_? Do you seriously not get why that would bother him?"

"My Jacob does not dislike vampires the way you do."

"I know. But you really think Billy—Billy who has yet to look you in the eye—wouldn't rather die than become a vampire? He knows becoming a bloodsucker would let him keep his leg, would let him walk again...he's going under the knife today, anyway. Since becoming a vampire isn't an option, it's life or _death_. And Jacob does not need to be thinking about the death part today."

"But that just seems stupid, not wanting to become a vampire. Billy wouldn't have to hurt anyone."

"Because your family's never hurt anyone."

"They're sorry about that now."

"Sure."

"They are."

"I agreed with you."

"Sarcastically. They really are sorry."

"They have a funny way of showing it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. You really shouldn't be talking to me today. I'm just in a bad mood."

That was about a terrible excuse as I had ever heard, yet there was no reason to call her on it. Leah evidently did not want to talk about why vampires were so reviled by Quileutes that Billy would rather be cut into pieces than take their help.

Instead, I took Leah's advice and did not speak to her until we reached the hospital. It was only then that I had to talk.

"What am I supposed to do, Leah?"

"Shut the car door without hitting the other car."

I shut the door carefully, unsure that the car could survive much force. But I clarified: "To help Jacob. What am I supposed to do?"

"Just be there to let him worry about you."

"Leah..."

I wasn't leaving the car until she gave me more concrete, serious advice. She had to stop and march back to the car, but for the first time today she stopped looking angry. It made the worry much more pronounced.

"Really, Nessie. That's all you have to do. Be there—and maybe stop me from murdering the only relative he has who bothered to show up. Just that. And if things get bad, hug him and remind him you love him. That's it."

"That seems deceptively simple."

"Not everything has to be complicated. Now come on."

I followed her into the hospital.

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TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

Special thanks to AlohaBEL for answering my annoying questions. The inaccurate details are on me.

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Chapter 15

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As we passed through the front doors of the hospital, Leah dropped into the conversation the rather outlandish instruction: "If anyone asks, my name is Rebecca and I live in Hawaii."

"Do I want to know?"

"They would only let family in beforehand and since the bitch hasn't bothered to come home, I figured it would be easier to lie. Whatever. Oh, and Seth's my husband."

"That's highly inappropriate."

"Speaking of inappropriate...you're Rachel's teenage mistake, okay?"

Ignoring for the moment that the twenty-four year old Rachel would not be able to pass for my mother unless she had been twelve at my birth, I said: "I thought your mother was a nurse. Can't she arrange these matters? Or won't the others recognize you as her daughter?"

"The ones who know won't rat us out. I'm not telling you to lie. I'm just telling you to not contradict me when I lie. That's almost okay."

"Insanity," I muttered, but let Leah take my hand and lead me through the impossibly crowded hallway. She evidently knew where she was going. Though I had visited the hospital before I was not sure in which waiting room the werewolves were located. I also lacked Leah's advantages—she could see over the majority of the crowd and did not hesitate to push her way through violently when she needed to. When I stayed as close as I could, it was a simple matter for me to slip by.

We finally arrived at our destination, a smallish waiting room near the surgical wing of the hospital. Three men were sitting around a table in the center of the room playing cards, two on the waiting room chairs, one sitting on the floor. My Jacob and Seth had been joined by another man—one who looked like he was a fellow werewolf though I did not know his name.

"Where the hell did she—" Leah gave me a stiff smile, hesitating in the background. "Whatever. Come on."

And she tugged me over.

My Jacob was surprised to see me—surprised and not entirely pleased, if his stiff hug was any indication. Over my head I'm sure he was glaring at Leah, but she managed to look contrite and concerned enough to calm him, for when he pulled back he gave me a true smile.

"It's good to see you, Nessie. Thanks for coming."

"You're welcome. You seem to be amusing yourself well enough."

"We try."

Leah broke in, quietly, like she almost didn't want him to hear. "Any news yet?"

"Nothing."

In order to prevent despondency, Leah surveyed the pile of money in the center of the table like she cared and asked: "Who's winning?"

It wasn't much—made up of only a few dollar bills and a bunch of change—but my Jacob groaned under his breath as he fell back into his chair. "I swear your brother's cheating."

"It's not my fault I'm lucky," Seth shrugged from the floor. "You want to play, Nessie?"

"I'm not playing with a bloodsucker," the other man said.

My Jacob growled, Leah rolled her eyes and Seth smiled: "Are you scared she's going to beat you?"

"Nessie, meet Paul," Jacob said. "My brother-in-law. At least, until I decide to kill him at which point he'll just be dead."

I'm not sure he was entirely joking. Neither was Paul, apparently, for he stuck out his hand. He did it rather laboriously and almost cringed when I took it, but he did try and shake and that seemed like the best I could ask for.

"Where'd Rachel go?" Leah asked.

"To get coffee," Paul informed her. "It'll give her time to stop PMS-ing, or whatever it is now."

"Next time you say the word PMS, I rip out your tongue," Leah threatened. "How about that?"

"What game are you playing?" I asked, mostly so they would stop arguing and upsetting my Jacob. He was pleased with the distraction.

"Do you know how to play poker, Nessie?" he asked.

When the answer was negative, he and Seth—and eventually even Paul and Leah—eagerly began explaining the rules. It seemed like a fairly simple game at first. It took me only moments to memorize the different card configurations and the order they trumped one another. But when it came to the bluffing part I was moderately confused.

"The point of the game is to bamboozle your friends?"

"Yup," Paul chirped. "Out of all their money." He was not the most pleasant of fellows.

"More to outwit them," my Jacob said with a bit of a smile. "The best way for you to learn is to practice. You want to play?"

"I did not bring any money."

"We'll be a team," Leah offered. "I don't think I'm going to regret bankrolling a genius."

She managed to get Paul to sit beside Seth on the floor (using a few choice insults and the palm of her hand), so I sat between Leah and Jacob on the harsh plastic chairs as we played. For the first few rounds, Leah looked over my shoulder to see my cards, but she did not give me advice. I lost the first few times, but I quickly got the hang of the game.

Really, it was mostly a game of luck. The werewolves were horrible liars; Paul was especially terrible and I found him easiest to read. Seth didn't seem that much better than Paul at first, but it did take me a long time to figure out why he usually did win. My Jacob and Paul just always assumed he wasn't bluffing. No matter what they told me, they couldn't make themselves suspicious of Seth and so every time he implied he had good cards, they believed him. Even after I realized this, _I_ believed him. It was just impossible not to—frustrating and impossible.

Leah left a few rounds in, to meet Quil in front of the hospital. Both Embry and Quil had to work today, but they were coming as soon as they could. Billy was not expected out of surgery for hours yet, so they had time.

No sooner had Leah left than another woman came towards us. Rachel carried two coffee cups in her hands and made eye contact with no one. My Jacob's sister was usually very pretty—if much smaller than he was—but today her face was pinched in a way that made it look like she was the one suffering a debilitating illness. Her dark hair hung limply on her shoulder and her clothing was terribly wrinkled (Aunt Rosalie would have disapproved). Today she looked old enough to have a twelve-year-old daughter.

"It took me forever to find something," she complained, handing one of the cups to her husband and the other to her brother. "This hospital is such crap."

"Didn't they have muffins?" Seth asked.

"Sorry. They only had carrot left." He nodded his thanks even as Paul asked, "Didn't you get anything for yourself, babe?"

"I don't think I could keep it down," she replied. Then she wrinkled her nose. In a voice that was heavy with disapproval, directed at both her husband and her brother, Rachel asked: "Is this what you've been up to the whole time I was gone?"

"We were just—"

Paul didn't get a chance to explain; Rachel ploughed right over him. "Professional poker player. Why didn't I think of it? It's perfect—that's how we can pay for Dad's medical bills."

My Jacob's jaw clenched and he pretended to concentrate on his cards, until I was sure he couldn't see them anymore. Paul took Rachel's hand and was slowly rubbing the back of it to help calm her down. It didn't seem to be working. There was a deep line between her brows that I had never observed it before. I wondered how, because it was all I could notice now.

"Have you given any thought to where you're going to get fifty thousand dollars, Jake?" she demanded. "Because I'm telling you right now, I don't have that kind of money. Rehabilitation and prosthetics aren't cheap and you're going to have to pay. Each month. For the rest of his life, you're going to need a hell of a lot of money to take care of him and I can't help."

"We wouldn't want you to start now," he muttered.

Seth and Paul cringed with such unison I would have been forgiven for thinking they were part of the same pack. Rachel began looking a little grey while the line got deeper.

"What's that supposed mean?"

"What you think it means. Don't pretend you give a damn about me and Dad now, Rachel. We'll manage without you, like we always have."

She looked like he had hit her, but though Paul was growling (and shaking, but Seth put out a hand and squeezed his arm until he stopped) my Jacob never once looked up from his cards. None of this stopped Rachel from speaking.

"I guess being the only one in this family who thinks beyond the next thirty minutes has always made me a bit of freak. Jeez, Jake, do you even know how you're going to pay for just this operation? Going to get the Clearwaters to bail you out again or have you moved onto the Atearas?"

He dropped his cards on the table and stood up, but Seth stood with him and called out: "Hey Quil!" before my Jacob could say anything.

The most recent pack brother to arrive quickly came around to give my Jacob a hug—ignoring Seth, who was closer—as if he often squeezed my Jacob until he was still. They talked boisterously about traffic and jobs as Leah came up beside Rachel and said: "I think I finally found the women's washroom, if you want."

Paul stroked his wife calf. "Watch out for the germs."

"Thanks," she snapped. Turning to follow Leah, she couldn't quite hide the way tears were welling in her eyes. I did not understand. She was the one more concerned with financial matters than her father's health and she was upset my Jacob wasn't? Yet Leah put an arm around her waist as she led her away and Leah was not the sort for unwarranted compassion. Maybe she was like Leah; the more unpleasant they were, the more upset they were pretending not to be.

Quil pulled his wallet out as he dropped into the seat beside me, buying into the game, discussing how hospital lighting was not to his liking. It didn't quite stop Paul from saying:

"You didn't have to be a dick. She can't help the hormones."

"I knew we could count on you to knock up your wife at the most inconvenient time," Quil laughed.

"Sister," my Jacob hissed as Paul chuckled. Since Leah was not around...

"It is juvenile and inaccurate to prescribe her emotional state to her body's hormone level," I stated. "Not to mention boorish and disrespectful."

"Guys," Seth said with a grin, "I think you just got burned by a twelve year old."

Paul punched him, but Seth was laughing too hard to notice. My Jacob launched a penny straight at Paul's forehead, where it left an impressive-sized welt. With that taken care of, they returned to the card game and more serious matters.

Paul admitted, "She's just worried. She's actually impressed with the way you've handled your dad."

"I think I know my sister as well as you do," Jacob snarled. "Annoying and as right as ever. Shit. How the hell am I going to pay for all this?"

The card game got quiet, as they went around folding, leaving me to collect the pot. I almost didn't want to take it, but it was pushed in my direction with such force that I didn't dare not. It was Quil who broke the silence.

"Embry was saying—"

"No."

Quil and Seth exchanged a look, which passed on the baton. This time it was Seth who said: "We're semi-immortal, Jake. A few years break from school won't kill us. Hell, Quil could still finish up. Me and Embry would just be temporary. We'd go back eventually."

"No," he announced again. "Not happening."

The werewolves hushed a second time, except for the various calls. Despite his apparent monetary distress, my Jacob did not seem to care that he was losing. All his money was going to Seth. As the younger werewolf raked in his most recent winnings, he looked up and caught my eye. It was disconcerting, the way he was staring—and then I finally understood that at least one of the werewolves had thankfully seen the obvious solution, the one I could not propose without offending everyone. With a very deliberate look he was asking my consent and I quickly gave a tiny nod of agreement.

"There's always the Cullens," he suggested softly.

Paul snorted. "They're practically your in-laws. They have to help."

Quil kicked the table so it jerked into Paul's stomach, hard, while Seth hit his arm. As they endeavored to shield me from the truth, my Jacob was saying: "That's not happening either."

"Why not?" Seth pressed.

"We aren't going begging to the Cullens," Quil supplied.

This annoyed Seth—even though his irritation was nothing compared to mine—for he continued, almost angrily: "So ask Alice for some stock tips. Or bring Jasper, or Rosalie, along to soften up the loan manager. Or get Edward to—"

"Enough, Seth," Jacob ordered. "I know you mean well, but it's not happening. We'll think of another way." Under his breath he muttered, "We're not paying a fucking bride price."

Apparently his distress was not great enough to warrant my family's intervention—or his revulsion at the thought of being in their debt was _too_ great. Neither possibility made me happy.

The werewolves thought of nothing else before Rachel came back. No one spoke about money now that she had joined us. They didn't speak of much at all though they eventually gave up the cards. I had gained about five dollars—I think Seth had closer to thirty—and made Leah take half of it for providing the money in the first place. It was only fair, even if the werewolves and their stupid pride hated taking anything from my hands.

Seth and Quil played bloody knuckles while the rest of us watched—my Jacob forbade me from ever trying such foolishness. Leaning against my Jacob's arm, I was slowly falling asleep as he and Leah argued above my head about the various plans to help Billy recuperate after his surgery, while still maintaining their presence on the Council. Rachel was sitting on her husband, facing the opposite direction, which was why she was the first to notice.

"Isn't that the surgeon?" she asked.

Both Black siblings stood up and headed the woman off, demanding information right where they stood. Paul got up and followed his wife, but the rest of us remained on the seats. At least until Seth whimpered: "Leah?"

"What?" she asked, clearly distracted. She hadn't taken her eyes off Jacob yet.

"Mom's here."

Sue had come through the doors the surgeon had emerged from, looking around the waiting room, searching for her children, wanting to be there when they heard the news. Her tearstained face told most of the story.

Leah's hands jerked so quickly I didn't even see what they did. Then the werewolves stood as one, Leah going to Jacob, Seth to his mother, Quil to me, trying to pull me from the room. The surgeon was attempting to explain what had happened to Rachel and Jacob, but despite straining to hear what she was saying—I wanted to know what complication had occurred—the surgeon was completely drowned out by Rachel, who was just standing their chanting, "No," like the word might undo everything that had happened.

Her husband tried to hold her, but she shook him off, still staring, still uncomprehending, still saying, "no, no, no, no, no." There wasn't fighting werewolf strength and she collapsed into Paul eventually, talking to herself all the while.

"No, please, no."

Jacob was sobbing, so hard I was afraid he would crush Leah, who couldn't seem to stop shaking herself. Quil's grip on me was uncomfortably tight, but I was strong too and I wasn't moving. He got the message eventually, finally letting me go. I had been planning to run to Jacob, but I found my legs could not move anymore. Leah's fingers were in his hair, his head was on her shoulder—if she couldn't make it better, how could I?

I remembered her advice from before, so recent and yet so long ago, to just hug him and tell him that I loved him. I let Quil pull me to the hallway because despite what Leah said I didn't think it would be enough just then.

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TBC...


	16. Chapter 16

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Chapter 16

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"Embry's going to be here soon," Quil said as he came back from transforming. "He's got twenty minutes left, maybe less. He's running hard."

His news was greeted with silence. Jacob didn't appear to hear and no one else had much to say. Rachel and Paul were standing by the wall while Leah had yet to let go of Jacob's hand as we sat on the criminally uncomfortable chairs—even that seemed to fail to remind him we were here. I may have been sitting on his lap, but I couldn't help feeling like he had forgotten who I was, as he hugged me the way I had once hugged Cowy. At least he had stopped crying. The sound had been physically painful to hear.

Seth was curled into the chair across from us and he was the one who had to speak now. "Charlie's picking up Old Quil; Emily's calling around La Push. Anyone else we need to talk to?"

Quil sat down on Jacob's other side, where Sue had been before she left to try and get off work early. He was comforting more by his presence than through touch, but it helped a little, I think. It was Leah who replied to her brother. "Did you get in touch with the Cullens?"

"Yeah." He tried to catch Jacob's eye, but I don't think he succeeded. "They were really sorry to hear it. They said they'd send someone to pick Nessie up."

For the first time since he had heard about his father, my Jacob spoke. It was just a curse word, but it was something.

"Don't worry about it," Leah murmured.

That didn't appease him. "I'm sorry, Nessie. I—"

"Don't worry about it," I echoed. "I would rather stay with you."

As bad as seeing him so upset was, it would be a hundred times worse to be at home knowing he was miserable and unable to be there. So I looked to Leah, to make sure she let me stay. Billy was not someone I had talked too more than once or twice; my loss was insignificant. My family could not mind what had happened.

"You should go home," Leah said. "They'll probably let us see...him soon and you shouldn't...you shouldn't. Not that."

I opened my mouth to argue—my family had shown me plenty of cadavers for educational purposes and one more would not upset me, I didn't think—but Rachel finally got her power of speech back.

"I can't—Paul?"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want, babe," he whispered. Not quietly enough.

Jacob stood up, pushing me away. "What the hell is wrong with you? He's _dead_ and you still can't stand to see him? What did—"

He stopped abruptly when Rachel erupted into tears, pausing just long enough to take a deep breath before walking right over to her and engulfing her in his strong arms. Muffled against his chest as she was, I couldn't make out a word she said, and it got even worse when they both started crying. How was I ever supposed to figure this out if no one would enunciate clearly?

"Seth?" Leah asked her brother. "Go buy the kid a chocolate bar or something?"

"Sure," he agreed. Leah was already pushing me towards her brother, her eyes firmly where they had been the entire day. I went, because I couldn't stay, not just because Seth promised quietly, "I'll get you skittles or something instead."

Since there were only moments until my parents burst through the hospital doors and brought me home anyway, I left the Black siblings crying and yelling and comforting each other behind me.

It wasn't fair. I was Jacob's imprint, yet there was absolutely nothing I could do for him. In this moment I was less prepared than my Jacob would be for a physics examination. He would need Rachel and Leah and the rest of the pack and his other friends in La Push, but not me. There was nothing I could offer him, except a hug and maybe...

I stopped abruptly, not following when Seth turned down the hall. He paused, close enough to hear when I wondered aloud, "Seth, can you keep secrets from Jacob and Leah?" It wasn't so much my involvement I wanted to hide—I would evidently be implicated—but Seth was always kind to me and there was no way he could fight off both Jacob _and_ Leah. He couldn't afford to have them mad at him.

Since he still seemed puzzled, I clarified, "The vending machines on the third floor are the best."

Seth had worked at the hospital the past summer. It didn't take him long to remember who worked on that floor. Ever so slowly, he nodded.

"Sounds good," he said. He let me press the button as we waited for a car to arrive to take us to my grandfather's floor.

"They'll be upset with me, won't they?" I asked. The answer would be yes, but I did not care. They were taking my help if it killed them.

"She'll call you a highhanded bitch. He'll insist they didn't need it." Seth forced himself to grin. "Screw them. They'll get over themselves. Eventually."

As the elevator doors shut behind us, I couldn't help asking: "You don't mind us helping?"

"You're our friends," he said simply. "Friends help each other. It's not charity if—" Though he had been getting a little agitated, Seth stopped himself. "Sorry. You don't need to hear it. You know how stubborn they can be about stupid things."

"Perhaps if we said it was a clerical error they would be less inclined to be offended?" Could hospital bills magically just pay themselves? I hoped so. I didn't want them _too_ mad.

"Don't worry. Even they won't look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when it's saving them from bankruptcy."

"That's a ridiculous sounding saying."

"But it's fun to say." I rolled my eyes and Seth seemed to take this as a challenge. "_Technically_ it's a proverb. This guy who worked in the court of Henry VIII—his name was Heywood—he wrote this book of proverbs, where it first appeared in print. The actually saying comes from the fact that you can roughly determine the age of a horse from the state of its teeth, gums, whatever. And checking the condition of a present is just rude."

The elevator doors opened and I followed him out, a little bewildered. "Where did you learn that?"

"My dad. Or maybe Leah." Seth frowned, trying to remember. "I'm not sure. It's definitely something my dad would know, but I'm not sure if he told himself or if he told Leah and she told me. But it's a cool story, isn't it?"

"Yes. Leah never tells me things like that."

"They remind her of Dad so she stopped. Hey, Sally?" he asked the nurse behind the desk. "How have you been?"

The smiling woman sat up straighter and cooed, "I've been good, Seth. I didn't think I would see you so soon. How are your classes going?"

"Good." Seth finally grasped that our circumstances justified a slight disregard for manners. "Uh, Sally? Is Dr. Cullen around somewhere? It's kind of urgent, but in a non-life threatening way."

The nurse glanced from Seth to me and back again; I had met her a few years ago, but I had looked half my current age so it was understandable that she would not recognize me. She told us, "He's with a patient. You want to wait in his office? I'll send him there right when he's done."

"You're an angel. Thanks so much," Seth called as he ushered me way.

The room was ridiculously small and filled with files that my grandfather had yet to finish writing up. Even though we had closed the door behind us, we could still here the sounds of the hospital, different machines beeping and people going to and fro. Seth sat himself down on the desk while I began looking at Grandpa's bookshelf.

"Do you think Jacob knows the difference between a proverb and a saying?" I asked as I examined the different titles. I had only read a very small selection and it was rather intimidating. Did doctors really have to know all this?

Seth snorted. "Not even if it offered to take him out to dinner."

"I thought as much."

He stopped chuckling abruptly. To my surprise, Seth sounded almost sharp when he spoke. "They aren't stupid, you know."

"Excuse me?"

"Jake and Leah. They aren't stupid. Just because he decided against college, just because she acts like she never went—they aren't dumb. It takes a different kind of smart to do what they do. Maybe not a smart you're used to, but it doesn't mean that they're not."

"I never said they weren't smart," I muttered.

But Seth knew. Knew that just because I never said the words, didn't mean I hadn't thought them a hundred times.

"Smarts and a whole lot of balls to try and run La Push the way they've been doing." Seth repeated: "Different kinds of smart."

"That's stupid," I announced. "It's stupid to call everyone smart when they know different things. There should be one measurement and those people are smart, and then everything else could be called something different. Otherwise, it's stupid, and confusing. Like how Jacob is angry and heartbroken. That does not make sense—that is stupid. Either he loves his sister and is glad she is here, or he wants her to go away. He cannot do both. Otherwise it's just stupid."

I may have stamped the foot at the end, because I didn't think Seth understood properly.

"This is all so stupid! Why would he die when he knew it would upset Jacob? Upset Rachel? There are people in La Push who need Billy and he just goes away? It's stupid. I don't understand why he would do that. Why would anybody just leave like that?"

The tears started then. "Why do people die? It's silly and foolish and oh so stupid! One second you're here and the next you're not—why? Everybody you love is crying because you're not there, but you can't do anything about it because you are dead. Why would you let that happen? Why should it ever happen? There is no good explanation because it's stupid. Death is stupid and I don't understand and no one has ever explained it and I want it to go away!"

Sobbing, I took the tissue Seth handed me and angrily wiped my nose. There was no sense in crying over something so senseless, but then this whole thing was nonsensical and I was giving myself a headache.

"Why do people have to die?" I asked as I looked at Seth. Never before had I so desired an explanation, but as the seconds ticked by, as he brushed away his own tears and stared at me quizzically, a strange fear began to form inside me.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You are supposed to tell me what I'm supposed to think now," I informed him. Just a little bit desperately, I reminded him: "You are supposed to know and you are supposed to tell me why."

"Oh Nessie," he sighed. "I've been trying to figure this out since I was fourteen. I don't have a clue."

"But you are—you're supposed to know," I whispered.

"I'm sorry. Come here," he beckoned. So I did as he bid and climbed up beside him so he could wrap one arm around me, creating a very nice place to cry until I couldn't stop. I just kept going and going until I couldn't anymore because Billy was dead and it didn't make sense and it sounded like it was never going to.

When I was finally merely sniffling, I looked up and asked Seth: "You really don't know the answer?"

"No. I don't even know if there is one. But you're the genius, not me. If there's an answer to figure out, I'm sure you'll be the one to do it."

I had to swallow the giant lump in my throat in order to speak. "Genius may be pushing it."

"You're certifiably brilliant."

"Seth? Have you ever heard of Adragon De Mello?"

He shook his head, confused. "Should I?"

"No. It doesn't matter. Seth? If you do figure out why people die, you have to tell me right away, okay?"

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise. But only if you tell me if you figure it out."

"Sure. We'll pinkie swear." I turned so I was sitting cross-legged on the desk, facing him. The shoulder of his shirt was discolored, but werewolf body heat had dried worse. I held out one hand, pinkie finger extended. When I had first learned the gesture, I thought it a silly human one. But now it felt like it would make the promise binding somehow, like I was calling on some ancient power. Seth imitated the gesture, locking our pinkies together.

"I pinkie swear," he agreed.

We even pressed our thumbs together in the universal symbol that meant the promise could not be broken.

After I let go, I tried to clean up my face as best as I could. He dug into his pockets and when he came up with nothing, he began searching through the desk drawers until he found some more tissues.

"Please do not tell my Jacob," I said eventually. "I do not want him to worry. He is anxious enough right now. Or Leah. Do not tell Leah. She needs to concentrate on helping him."

"You're a remarkable girl, you know that Nessie?"

"I know."

He laughed and lifted up a fist. When I stared at him like he was insane, he asked: "You've never heard of knuckles? What is your father teaching you?"

"Not _knuckles_."

Seth showed me how—it was a strange ritual, but it amused him, so I relented—and finally Grandpa Carlisle showed up.

"Are you two all right?"

Seth carefully explained what had happened. Then I explained what I wanted my family to do and my grandfather agreed even if he wasn't quite comfortable abusing his power at the hospital in such a manner.

"Are you all right Nessie?" Carlisle asked me carefully.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Thank you," Seth repeated. "Thank you very much, Dr. Cullen. When they—thank you."

"It's our pleasure," my grandfather said. "Nessie, where are you going?"

"I have to go back. Are you coming or not, Seth?"

The werewolf shrugged apologetically at my grandfather, who nodded his agreement, and then Seth followed me out. It turned out not to matter much, since my parents intercepted us in the lobby. At least I had managed to help somehow.

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TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Note: The translations I chose should be accurate—my apologies if they're not. Sanskrit isn't something I study. As well, the best information on Quileute beliefs in the afterlife I found was ninety years out of date, so I left it vague. Sorry.

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Chapter 17

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It took five hours to get me ready for Billy's wake. I hadn't been invited to the funeral—the official reason was tradition, but I think the word they were really looking for was overprotective. Still, I wanted to look appropriate and my family wanted to help me though they did not have many dealings with funerals.

They did know about death, but they did not want to teach me about it. The best they could come up with was a lecture from my father about the glories of heaven and he could not prevent me from learning his belief that it was not for vampires.

That was not comforting.

Instead, Aunt Alice found me ten different black outfits and made my try on each several times, taking polaroid pictures the entire time. She wanted me to look conservative, yet youthful, in order to convey the proper amount of respect while not looking dowdy. It was her attempt to distract me, for Alice understood less than I did about death—she couldn't even remember her own.

My mother held my hand, trying to comfort me. Whether it was because Billy was dead or Aunt Alice kept making me change, I wasn't always sure. Mom had shut the door on death forever, but she could remember the fear. She did not like recalling it.

When Aunt Rosalie came to do my hair, Aunt Alice and Mom cleared out. I think they expected her to speak to me. She remembered her life and had not courted death. As she heated my curls, forcing them to straighten out, she said nothing. Occasionally, she caught my eye in the mirror. Neither of us said anything. I did not want to hurt her and she did not want me to share her emotions, emotions she could not stop. Billy Black was dead, his family was in mourning and Aunt Rosalie was jealous. She would not console me; she could not console herself.

"You look beautiful," she said when she finished. Her cold hand ran through my hair, still warm from the straightener. "Be nice to the dogs today. They'll probably be chasing their tails for a long while. Don't tell them I said I was sorry."

"Of course not."

If I understood anything—and at this point I wasn't sure I did, so I clung to what I could—it was that death made maintaining charades even more important than ever.

"Come downstairs when you're ready. You know you don't have to go today, if you don't want to."

"I'll be down soon."

A final spraying of my hair, a proud smile, and then she left me alone.

Staring at myself in the mirror was not an amusing distraction, even though I did make a strange picture. With my hair no longer a curly mess and the black dress on, I looked more horrific than I ever had. The five-foot adult with the child's face—it was perverse. With a sigh, I got out of the chair, my feet a little shaky on the heels Aunt Alice had picked out. Maybe she should have listened to my mother and let me wear flats.

I slipped from the room and to the bedroom beside it; there was always an expert in my family to ask whenever I needed to know something. Grandma was going to make the women in my family (and Dad) sit down and discuss my emotional well-being. That meant Uncle Jasper would be alone reading in his room.

No one in my family knew death like Uncle Jasper. They were more than old friends; they had once been blood brothers.

"Are you busy?" I asked after I knocked on the door.

He shook his head, putting down the book. "Come in," he invited me. "What can I do for you?"

Out of my entire family, Uncle Jasper was my favorite to behold. Before I was a year old, I had the rest of my family committed to memory; Uncle Jasper posed a more complex problem. His face was not the same five features plastered over for a uniform look. The planes were not perfectly smooth; the features were blemished. There was something to learn there, a story to know—one I was still too young to fully comprehend, but it was fascinating to try and understand it anyway.

Today I was asking about different sorts of scars. As I curled up into the armchair across from him, careful not to wrinkle my pretty dress, I tried to put my thoughts into some sort of orderly design. It didn't work very well. So I sat there instead, letting my confusion, my speculation and my sadness wash over him so he could understand and elucidate the answers.

"Billy is dead. The humans in La Push are dying. The werewolves are postponing death, but not indefinitely. But we cannot die. Is it even possible for me to understand?"

"I am death, the mighty destroyer of the world, out to destroy." Uncle Jasper was carefully not influencing my emotions. I was careful to keep them steady, to not bother him. "Do you know where that's from?"

"The Bhagavad Gita. Notoriously quoted by Robert Oppenheimer after the creation of the atomic bomb. Only he translated the line 'Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.' It is much more dramatic and poetic that way."

"It's an interesting translation. As if it death was something he had done, had become, had ascended to and not something he had always been." A tangent, one close to his unbeating heart, but a tangent and he realized that, returning to the topic. "I suppose he had never before realized just how easy it is to take a human life. They act as if they're indestructible and are yet they are some of the most vulnerable creatures on the planet. It's easy to believe that vulnerability makes them inferior."

There were many things I could say to this—even as a child I knew strength did not determine worth. I said nothing, for Uncle Jasper had made this discovery for himself. He would not have been here if he had not. After he thought over his words, he continued:

"Death is perhaps their greatest vulnerability, one that they all share. You wanted to know about death, Nessie? Truly?"

I scared Uncle Jasper. I always had. Blessings did not fit into the hell he believed he deserved. Far away he tried to stay, desperate not to taint me.

I nodded.

"I want to know."

"Death does not know mercy or patience. He comes to everyone and He comes in His own time. He is always sudden, no matter how prepared you think you are. Death is ruthless, vicious and furious. There is no stopping Death." I shivered and he waited patiently until I had stopped. "The weak and strong, the old and young, the foolish and wise, Death comes to us all for it is far too easy for Him to have His way. All of us.

"Have you learned Sanskrit yet?" When I shook my head, he looked almost apologetic. "In the Bhagavad Gita the word often translated as death has other meanings. It can also be translated as dark. Or time."

He looked away from me. "It is time that leaves vampires alone, not death. Sometimes we forget, mistake one for the other; we think we are safe from Death. But we are only safe from Time, from the decay that makes human life so brief, so precious. Time avoids us; Death does not. Human or vampire, Death comes for us all.

"That is not to say there is no hope. Krishna told Arjuna: 'You are only an instrument.' He was not concerned with death; death is not something you concern yourself with when you believe in rebirth. Instead, he was telling Arjuna to accept his purpose, his life. We each have a duty, Nessie, in this world. It is prescribed to us and must be fulfilled. Through Krishna the ignorance of Arjuna was removed and he was able to see his duty clearly. We must all try and do the same. The Bhagavad Gita is not about death, violence or decay but about life and knowledge." With a tiny smile, Uncle Jasper made a tiny joke that wasn't really a joke. "I am death."

His tone left no room for argument. It made me rather sad, though I wasn't sure why and I was even less sure why I suddenly thought Uncle Jasper sounded like Leah. The only thing the two of them had in common was their unrelenting readiness to kill the other. And yet...

"Members of the Manhattan Project went on to make other important scientific discoveries." I don't know why I thought it important that he remember that, but I was compelled to remind him anyway. "They made valuable contributions to society. Many won Nobel Prizes."

"I don't think the corpses in Hiroshima and Nagasaki care."

The silence grew as he pondered his next words. "Oppenheimer's translation was correct in one sense. Death is a destroyer of worlds. A world is destroyed when a life is taken. That is why it is so devastating. Your grandfather is here."

Dismissed, I rushed downstairs. I didn't want Grandpa Charlie to change his mind about taking me. I was tired of being protected all the time. Time, not death—one day it could be me. That needed more thought.

Carlisle and Charlie were talking quietly, but when I came down the stairs, they got quiet. "Ready to go?" Grandpa Charlie asked.

I nodded, said goodbye and followed him out to his car. I loved Grandpa Charlie, but he was not someone who I understood. Life was something he recognized on a need to know basis, while I viewed is as something I needed to know. The car ride to La Push was a silent one, except when he muttered:

"Sorry about the smell. I just brought some fish. I thought they'd like some. Billy always liked it."

"It smells nice," I lied and he brightened a tiny bit.

The Black house seemed to be overrun by cars and Grandpa Charlie was forced to park far down the street. Picking up the greasy newspaper in the back, Charlie carried the food in one hand and reached out his free hand towards me. Hand in hand, we walked towards the house.

Sue greeted us by the door. She was smiling, though it was a different sort of smile than she usually wore. When she saw the newspaper, she turned around and shouted, "Seth! We got more fish!"

Charlie looked stunned, but she pulled us inside. Her son came up and took the fish from Grandpa Charlie, telling his mom: "We need more plates."

"They're in the garage, behind all that crap. Who'd you leave in charge of the barbecue?"

"Sam; he won't burn anything. Hey, Charlie. Glad you could come. Try and get Mom to sit down sometime today. And it's good to see you, Nessie. Remind me we need to talk."

"Why?" Charlie and Sue were doing their strange mating rituals and I didn't want to be around, but I wasn't sure I liked what Seth was saying either.

"Your dad isn't—"

"Shush," I begged. "Not where someone might hear us. You can't tell."

Seth actually stopped walking—my desperation may have made an impression—but before he could respond, a voice called to me. Good. There would no way Seth would ever get around to talking to me now; I was never alone with people who weren't members of my family.

Leah sounded like she was mid-giggle. "Nessie, get over here."

"Fine. Lips zipped shut," Seth promised. "You couldn't have talked him out of the fish? I've got six to cook still."

Seth was already gone, so I made my way over to the couch. My Jacob was sitting in the middle of it, his sister beside him. They were tightly pressed together, mostly because they were also sharing the couch with Leah, Paul and a man I didn't know (Jared, I was told). Werewolves had no concept of personal space. Across from the couch was the only person besides me who was wearing black. The departed Rebecca had returned to La Push a more depressed version of her suddenly reanimated twin.

"What happened to your hair?" my Jacob asked, horrified. He pulled me in front of him, studying me carefully. "Bet it was Blondie."

"It looks great," Leah informed us. "Sophisticated."

"It looks like she's wearing a wig. Trying to be the lady on the Addams family."

"Shut up, Jake. It makes her look older."

"Do you remember that time Rebecca wanted to dye her hair blonde?" Rachel asked and her brother burst out laughing. Leah was giggling, while Rebecca scowled, "When _you_ wanted to dye my hair blonde. I was happy leaving it the way it was."

Rachel giggled harder as Paul kissed her cheek and asked, "What happened?"

"We tried to do it behind Dad's back, obviously," Rachel said. "We even got Leah to buy the peroxide."

"Which she screwed up, of course," Rebecca muttered. But her eyes twinkled as Leah smirked.

"You said to buy the cheapest stuff. I was just doing as I was told. You only gave me ten bucks, anyway."

As Rachel resumed telling of her and Rebecca's struggle with the bottle of dye, Leah motioned me to come closer. I don't know why they felt the need, but apparently they wanted me to sit on their laps. Half on my Jacob, half on Leah, crammed between them I listened as Rachel continued:

"...I thought the first clump was just dead hair. But the second made me think something was really wrong. I wasn't sure how I had screwed up, but it just kept falling out. Rebecca's face was in the towel, so she couldn't see. I was panicking just a little, holding bundles of her hair, so I called for Jake—which just freaked her out completely. Why did I need the help of an eleven year old kid?"

"What did you want me to do anyway?" he asked. Somehow, my Jacob was holding my hand, even as he laughed. His other arm was keeping Leah close and the heat of the two wolves was a little overwhelming, but I tolerated it as best I could.

"I have no idea," Rachel admitted. "You were the closest person around. Unfortunately, the yelling caught Dad's attention. He walked into the doorway and wondered why I had straw in my hands."

My Jacob laughed again. "And then he realized that the lump underneath the pile of straw in the sink was Rebecca."

"I looked up at that. I really did look like a scarecrow." Rebecca rolled her eyes. "A balding scarecrow on crack."

"I swear," Leah said, "You could hear the screaming from my house."

Rachel was grinning ear to ear. "And then she tried to run over to kill you? It was priceless."

"Glad someone finds it funny," Rebecca muttered.

But Rachel wasn't the only one. The others were all laughing and Leah was positively cackling. "I'm so lucky your father was able to hold her back. Saved my life that day."

It was hard not to grin as they laughed around me, calling out different childhood memories, stories about themselves and Billy and my Jacob's mother. Embry came in carrying a plate of fish; apparently Seth had found the plates, because food came around and was quickly devoured.

Quil warned my Jacob that his grandfather was coming around to give him advice, so Jacob announced he would go visit him first. Squashed between Rachel and Leah, I was forced to listen as they turned to more annoying topics.

"I told you her hair was gorgeous," Leah told Rachel.

"It's disgustingly perfectly," Rachel agreed. They were both stroking my hair like I was some kind of pet. "What do they put in it? It feels like silk."

"Probably something from a salon in Milan. I hate the vamps. I think I like it better straight. The curls made it look like she was trying to look younger."

"I am young," I pointed out.

The two women giggled like I was the most amusing thing ever and then started talking about their own struggles with hair care. Rachel seemed to like Leah's short hair, but though it was low maintenance, Leah did not. She was so busy complaining about it, she didn't mind when I slipped away to find my Jacob.

Even with everybody packed into the house like sardines, they had stayed out of his bedroom. I found him in there, staring at the window, just standing there staring. He did not manage a smile when he turned to face me, but he was not crying either.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked.

"I just wanted a minute."

"You don't have to go back out there, if you don't want to. The incessant false amusement is grating."

This time he did grin at me, as he came to take my hand. "It's not that bad, is it?"

"I...I suppose not. Not if you don't mind."

"They're just doing what I asked them to. Remembering him should make me happy, not sad."

Did they really have to be trying that hard? Evidently. Recalling the speech my father had given me the night before I said, "At least his soul is in a better place. One where the vampires cannot enter. That should make him happy."

My Jacob looked almost puzzled and then he laughed. "Who says vampires can't come?"

"Dad believes he lacks a soul. It is his hope that I have at least half of one and that I will be good enough to achieve paradise, at the end of all things."

"If the fish and the tress have 'souls', Nessie, vampires can have them, too. Don't you dare think you won't be allowed to be with your family. If you don't get a 'soul', you can have one of mine—it might be unprecedented and cheating a little, but so what? Don't worry about the end just yet."

It was no stranger than my father's superstitions—and I found it more comforting since my family could be included in this. "I won't then."

"Good."

The loud creak from the door caught our attention as it magically tried to shut itself. My Jacob laughed and called out: "Sneaky Leah."

The door stopped moving and then the female werewolf slipped inside the room and shut the door behind her. "If you leave the door open, people are going to barge in. Idiot."

"Aren't you supposed to be nice to me today?"

"Milking your father's death? Classy Jake." Because they weren't being Jacob and Leah unless they were using improper humor. Leah leaned back against the door. "I can hold Mom off for a couple more minutes, but when she breaks out the cakes she's going to want you to give a speech. Just a heads up."

"Let's just delay the inevitable for a bit. Come here," he beckoned. Leah rolled her eyes but came over to us and the werewolves wrapped their arms around each other.

"He loved you and he was proud of you," Leah said as she rested her head on his shoulder. "That's what Billy told me when I finally turned back after Dad died. I'd tell you the same thing, but you should know it already. Hell of a lot to be proud of."

"Are you trying to be nice to me?"

"Never," she promised. But she gently tugged on my arm, until I was included in their hug, so once again Leah was lying. Death comes for us all, Uncle Jasper had said, so we must embrace life, embrace our purpose and embrace each other.

So I did.

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TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

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Chapter 18

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I should have stayed in bed.

From the second I woke up, I knew. Half-hazy from the rapid eye movement sleep, I still sensed something amiss in my house—perhaps because Mom was standing just by my door, watching me sleep. It was a rather odd sight to see her so early in the morning. If any more proof was needed that today was going to be a strange day, she proceeded to advise me on my outfit selection.

That's when I should have started searching for signs of the apocalypse.

My mother had never in my life given fashion advice to anyone. As far as I could remember—and my memory was flawless—she had avoided all opportunities to further her knowledge about style. Now she was trying to counsel me as to clothing? It did not compute.

"Where's Dad?" I called as I dressed in the shirt she had instructed me to wear.

"He went hunting." It was easy to hear her embarrassment. "All the men are out hunting."

"Did Uncle Jasper have another close call?" My poor uncle. He always was most humiliated after such events.

"No. No, nothing like that. They just...they wanted to go hunting."

"You are a terrible liar," I informed her as I came out of my room. We would head to the main house together.

"I get that a lot."

Still, the truth of the matter was not revealed to me as we walked over, discussing her night. When we got to the house, I ceased to care she hadn't warned me. My only thought was that I should have stayed in bed.

"Surprise!" Aunt Alice stood in front of me, giggling ecstatically. Aunt Rosalie was standing behind her, looking pleased with herself, while Grandma Esme was beside them looking hopeful. My mother just looked deathly ashamed. "What do you think, Nessie?"

"I'm in hell."

Mom was so mortified she didn't even reprimand my language. She should be embarrassed. She should feel wretched, for forcing this upon me.

The entire room had been transformed. The piano and couches had been removed and in their place...in their place! I think Aunt Alice had bought out an entire lingerie store and arranged it in our living room. There were racks all over the room, displaying every type of brassiere imaginable. They could not...they would not. Oh, they _were_ going to do this to me!

"It's about time you stopped wearing those ugly practical training bras your mother has you in," Aunt Alice exclaimed. In her excitement, she was making me dizzy watching as she danced around the room. "So today we thought we'd introduce you to the wonders of underwire!"

I crossed my arms over my underdeveloped chest and tried to turn around. Mom blocked the door, so I tried to push past her. She grabbed my arm. Even though I was about as strong as the werewolves when they were in human form, I could never hope to match my mother's pure vampiric strength. There was going to be no escape.

"Sit down," Aunt Rosalie commanded, pointing to a couch in the middle of the room. I had no choice in the matter and was escorted there unceremoniously. "Now, why don't you tell us what you're interested in?"

"We could model the different styles for you," Aunt Alice suggested. "Or should we take her measurements first? Oh! I left the measuring tape in my room."

There was only a blur as she dashed out of the room. My mom took the opportunity to announce: "I'm getting a little hungry. I think I'm going to join Edward."

"Mom! You can't! Mother!"

But she was already gone. Traitor. How could she do this to me? My aunts could be terrifying in their determination, but I did not appreciate her disloyalty. She could have rescued me herself. Fortunately, Grandma Esme sat down on beside me and took my hand.

"You need to do this Nessie. You're growing up. It might be more fun than you think."

Somehow, I doubted it. Especially when Aunt Alice came back into the room and began measuring me (measuring what?) before I could blink. Becoming putty in her hands was the only way to survive my ordeal; I merely did as I was commanded. In the hopes of putting off the time when I would be dressed like I was a mannequin that occasionally made noises of protest, I asked them to model the different styles.

Despite Aunt Rosalie's natural inclination towards the profession, they decided Aunt Alice should be the dummy. "What should we show her first?" Aunt Alice asked. Beaming was the only word for what she was doing; never before had I disliked Alice so.

"What about this?" Rosalie said, holding up some lacy monstrosity. Suddenly Alice was only my second least favorite person on the planet.

"She's only twelve," Alice reminded her. "No one but her is going to see it."

"I know that. But nice undergarments will give her confidence."

"Confidence to show them to other people. Edward will kill us."

"Edward doesn't even know they come in colors," Rosalie pointed out. Inaccurately. It was most unfortunate that I knew that. I groaned and hid my head in Grandma Esme's arm, whispering, "Make them stop."

"Girls," Esme said, "Why don't you try showing her something simple, first? Nice plain cotton, perhaps? How would you like that, Nessie?"

"Good." I would have agreed to anything if I thought it would get me out of the situation sooner. Above me, I could hear Alice begin to shed her clothes, and then my two aunts bickering over which they preferred, the sound of more dressing and then finally the order:

"Ta da!"

It was not as atrocious as it could have been, I suppose. There were no sparkles, or bowties, or flowers on it. With a sigh, I admitted, "It's almost not ghastly. You can give me that."

"Nessie," Alice whined. "You don't have to settle. We want you to find something you absolutely adore. And we aren't going to stop, so I recommend you start enjoying yourself."

"Are you truly bothered by this?" Esme asked quietly.

"What can you expect from Bella's daughter?" Rosalie snarled. Her daughter would delight in having nice things. I hated when she became disappointed, so I hurried to explain.

"It isn't as if there's much fatty tissue support, so this all seems rather pointless."

"Nothing wrong with being on the smaller side," Alice said. Normally Rosalie would be smirking, but today she was content with stroking my hair and sighing.

"Wow."

The four of us turned around to find a pair of werewolves in the doorway. Leah's eyes had gotten so big I was afraid they would fall out—_she_ would not run away from the insanity, but enjoy herself thoroughly. Incontrovertible proof the female werewolf was bizarre. It was my Jacob who recovered first, a smirk slowly emerging on his face.

"Looking good, shortie."

"Thanks, wolf. Now what are you doing, crashing my party?"

Alice didn't sound angry, much to my relief. She was just amused that my Jacob had caught her without a shirt on. Rosalie, on the other hand, looked extremely irritated. That wouldn't end well.

"I don't know, but I'm happy I did. Ow!"

Jacob clutched his arm as Leah relaxed her fist. "Pig," she muttered. "Ogle the one who's husband might not be able to kill you."

"I can take Jasper," he shrugged.

Alice let out a tiny giggle. "Keep dreaming, White Fang."

"Who let the dogs in?" Rosalie demanded furiously, abruptly ending the conversation.

"Rosalie," Esme admonished. "I invited Leah over. Since the two of you went a little overboard shopping for Nessie, I thought Leah might like to take something with her. And Alice, you might want to put on a shirt."

"That's really not nec—ow!" Jacob rubbed his bicep again. "I was just joking." Leah did not appear amused.

Rosalie was not to be deterred. "That still didn't explain why she brought _him._"

"She didn't tell me why I was supposed to come," Leah snapped. "I thought it was just another one of your crazy let's celebrate Nessie's specialness days. No way was I going to suffer through that alone."

"But you will take something before you leave?" Esme asked.

"Of course. Thank you very much, Esme," Leah said. Grandma was the only person in the room who was fooled. Leah was not grateful. If the merchandise did make it past the river, than it would go to every woman in La Push besides Leah Clearwater; but even Leah would not hurt Esme's feelings by refusing. Instead she said, "Where did you get all of this stuff? Did you knock over a Victoria's Secret or just ask them to deliver?"

"Master Card. No unnecessary questions: priceless." Aunt Rosalie couldn't keep it in. "Plastic is used for things besides chew toys, you know."

"Hey, Rosalie?" my Jacob asked. "How do blonde brain cells die?"

"How?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Alone."

"What do you know? I've heard that one too." Her complaint did not stop the werewolves from enjoying the joke. Leah snorted, through allegiance kept the rest of us from laughing. No sooner had my Jacob finished slapping himself on the back did Leah pull a particularly misshapen specimen from the rack, holding it in front of her.

"Why the hell did you buy this? No way it fits anyone in this house."

Rosalie straightened her back. "Speak for yourself."

"Ow!" My Jacob rubbed his shoulder where Leah had just tried to dislocate it. "I didn't even say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"Since you already hit me…I'm going to offer my services as an impartial judge. Ow!"

"Careful," Rosalie warned. "I'm a doctor, not a veterinarian. You break him, it's your problem."

"Let's not break me," my Jacob said. "I'm going to go now."

"You can't!" I burst out. "I am suffering here and I need help. You must stay and protect me."

I didn't care that everyone's eyes had gone wide and that my Jacob looked deathly afraid that every woman in the room would kill him if he so much as blinked in the next instant. I didn't care that it was borderline inappropriate, even if he was my imprint. He couldn't abandon me to these cruel women.

"Nessie, you're growing up now and I can't always be there to help you. There are some things you have to do without me. This is one of them. Okay? Ow."

"I didn't hit you, loser."

Jacob stared at Leah and then at his arm and then back at Leah again. "Why not?"

"Because that was the right answer."

"I don't think I've ever done that before."

"You haven't," she said with a grin. "I wouldn't get used to it if I were you."

"Noted. Okay, I'm going. Are you…?"

"No," Leah said, but Alice was already exclaiming, "Oh! It would be better to have an odd number, in case of any ties."

"This isn't a democracy; it's _my_ body," I protested. I was summarily ignored. At least Grandma would always vote with me.

It was Rosalie who decided Leah, in the end. My aunt said, "We're attempting to force her to look like a normal teenage girl. Her mother may be content to ignore the signs of puberty, but we are not. Now, either help or stop interrupting."

"Bella is not ignoring anything," Alice protested. "She's just letting the experts handle things."

"Experts?" Leah was now too amused now not to agree. "I guess I could stay; but I want the car."

"I'm only doing this because you have presents to bring home," my Jacob said as he handed her the keys. "Try not to break my baby."

"Try to leave something for me to eat."

I'm sure Leah would have dinner when she came home—courtesy of her brother or mother. Jacob may have moved in, but I doubt he was pulling his weight in regards to cooking. I would have been upset about their twenty-four hour closeness but I couldn't argue that the financial and practical motivations hadn't been strong; without his father, it was cheaper to live with the Clearwaters and they worked together so closely it made sense for them to have continuous contact. With one last look at Alice, Jacob showed himself to the door. With no allies left to me, I had to admit surrender. It was time to enjoy myself.

With a sigh, I leaned my head on Esme's shoulder as Rosalie demanded of Leah: "Tell Alice that we aren't trying to dress a nun."

"It's boring and hideous," Leah agreed as she perched on the armrest of couch. "I thought you were the fashionable one?"

"I'm going to ignore that, she-wolf. Any fancier and Edward will disapprove." Rosalie and Leah didn't have to say anything, because their expressions were pretty self-explanatory. Alice sighed, realizing that the two of them simply didn't care. A half a second later her face looked terribly scary as she remembered…she didn't either. "Right. How about something in blue? This is adorable, Versace, and even has a little padding."

As disinclined as I was to take pleasure from becoming a life-sized doll, I couldn't help smiling just a little at that. Additions to my chest were rather necessary and that my relatives would admit that I could be improved upon in any way was rather exciting. Since I was going to be forced to participate, it was only logical that I attempt adapt to my surroundings.

"Fine. I'll try it on. But I am not promising to like it."

They accepted my terms and we got to work.

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Author's Note: I'm taking a break for the holidays (hopefully all the way to Saturday). I just wanted to take this moment to wish everyone a Merry Christmas! Stay safe, warm and happy.


	19. Chapter 19

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Chapter 19

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The first thing I heard when I entered the Clearwater's garage was swearing, followed by laughter. Neither surprised me very much.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Leah was complaining. "We are so late it's not funny."

"Actually," I said, "Emmett found it most amusing when you failed to come pick me up. The day after my birthday, too."

My voice roused the werewolves to action. Leah almost let go of the car she was holding up while my Jacob sat up so quickly he smashed his head on the underside of the vehicle. Hurrying to roll himself out from under there, he searched for a rag to clean his grease-stained hands.

"How did you get here?" he demanded. The jumpsuit he was wearing, which he had failed to button up so that his chest was also filthy, looked more black than blue, it was so old.

"I walked from the border," I shrugged. "Or I started to. Emily Uley saw me and gave me a ride part of the way."

"You got into a car with a woman you don't know?" How did Leah manage to sound furious while chuckling? "I thought you were supposed to be smart."

"Not only am I stronger than a human, I do know her. I met her at—at the funeral, remember? She's not someone you forget meeting."

Leah looked down as my Jacob said: "I'm so sorry about this, Nessie. It's just the car won't go and it's taking a lot longer than I thought to fix it. I thought your family would stay with you until I got there; that was the whole point of calling to say I would be late."

Emmett would have stayed, but I insisted—and suggested Rosalie was eager for his quick return. I didn't mind the walk through La Push and it was nice to not be supervised sometimes.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're here now." He gave me his easy Jacob grin, which was covering for the fact there was yet another problem with the car. "I just need to fix it up and then we can go for our picnic."

"Will it take much longer?"

He looked at me apologetically. "I just knocked something else loose. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes."

An hour than, maybe more. It was a good thing I hadn't waited or I would have still been there, sitting in the car at the border of La Push, for yet another celebration of the fifth anniversary of my birth. One of these days I was going to ask my Jacob to get Sam Uley to agree to let my family come onto the reservation for a few moments at a time, if only to make my life easier.

"How long have you been holding the car up?" I asked Leah.

"Since he broke the jack," she sighed. "By the way, I'm getting tired."

"Quit whining. Nessie? Could you hand me a clamp?"

I walked over to the table and looked at the many dark instruments that lay there. My Jacob had transported all of his tools to this house and added them to the vast collection there, for the strange things had doubled in number.

Mechanics was not something I had ever bothered to learn because it frankly held no interest. My Jacob or Rosalie could always take care of the technical difficulties. So I looked to Leah, who motioned me to the side more and more, until my hand hovered over a silver thing, which was when she promptly nodded. Picking up the tool, I carried it to Jacob, who took it without coming out from under the car.

"Why is there a car seat under the tool bench?" I asked.

"Rachel's shower is in—" "Two weeks, Friday," Leah supplied. "—and we have to get her something. What do you think? Cute enough?"

The picture on the box did look sweet, but I was not sure what standard he was using for enough. I merely said, "It's a very practical gift. I approve."

"We were going to get her clothing but—we decided against that."

"I wouldn't go with him to buy it," Leah informed me, bitter grin firmly in place. "Why he needed my help remains a mystery. What can I possibly know that he can't?"

"Self-pity is only allowed if you go see Carlisle," he snapped from under the car. It promptly started shaking. That would be very bad, if Leah dropped it—the car would never survive landing on Jacob. "And since you're too chicken shit—"

"If I haven't gotten knocked up by now, Jake, I really don't think it's going to happen." They finally remembered I was there too, for Leah muttered, "Don't have unprotected sex."

"I'll try and remember that."

"You know what?" my Jacob said. "I think the guys are making lunch. They might need help or supervision or something."

Knowing that they wanted me to stay even less than I wanted to go, I reluctantly headed towards the house with a mumbled agreement. They began arguing behind me, but I tried to tune them out as best I could. Instead, I headed into the house.

I could hear Seth singing to himself (badly, I might add) long before I reached the kitchen. Apparently, he wanted Beethoven to roll over, which sounded terribly disrespectful, but then I couldn't see any of the werewolves appreciating classical music.

When I entered the kitchen, Quil was sitting at the kitchen with his feet on the table, ripped jeans, white wife beater, perfectly muscled arms. Seth cooked over the stove wearing just jeans and an apron—I suspected it was one of the kiss the chef ones, but couldn't tell for certain. It didn't really matter because the unwanted thoughts caused the blood vessels in my facial region to dilate, prompting me to turn an unflattering shade of crimson.

My guardians had waited until I days away from turning thirteen, old enough to realize Jacob's friends were ideal masculine specimens, before leaving me alone with them.

Imbeciles, the lot of them.

"Hey, Nessie," Seth called, abruptly ending his song. I jumped, having failed to notice I had been detected. "You going to stand there or are you going to come help?"

"How did you know it was me?" I asked, coming forward. There was a very good reason for me not to get too close to the werewolves today, but Jacob and Leah hadn't perceived anything was amiss and Seth's lunch was creating such smells that I doubted they would notice anything. I risked it.

"You're the only person we know who wouldn't barge in screaming," Quil said as he turned the page of the newspaper.

Seth knocked on the top of the stove cover, where there was shiny, reflective if distorted metal. "Plus, you're the only one with brown hair for a good twenty miles."

"You think I have brown hair?" I asked, sitting on the counter beside the stove. I had been right about the apron, but I didn't care, too distracted with what he had said. Mother called my hair bronze all the time, as if I needed another reason to be special.

"Now that you mention it..." he began as he handed me the processed cheese slices to unwrap, "It is sort of more red than brown. You're going to be an official redhead in a couple of years, if you keep that up. We'll finally be able to come up with a good nickname for you."

"If it's more convenient for you..."

Seth laughed, which caused yet another change in my circulatory system, but I tried to ignore that. "Sure. Redheads can have great nicknames. What can you call a brunette? I can't even think of a famous one."

"Veronica," Quil supplied.

"She's kinda evil and everyone knows Betty's better, anyway."

Quil snorted, crumpled up the paper and hit Seth in then back. Seth ignored it as Quil asked: "So what are they up to in the garage?"

"My Jacob is attempting to fix the car. Leah is alternating between holding it and threatening to drop it on his head."

He snorted. "Dropping a car on a guy's head. Leah's idea of foreplay."

It took a second for us all to fully comprehend the vast inappropriateness of Quil's comment. As I pretended I didn't understand, Seth let out a quiet, choking, "Dude..." before promptly throwing a dishtowel at him.

"By foreplay I meant—"

"No," Seth interrupted. "There is no way to save that. Here, Nessie, could you peel the oranges?"

I took the fruit and began, even as Quil stood up. "Fine. I can tell when I should have left five minutes ago. We running tonight?"

"Yeah. Around seven?"

"Sure." Quil looked at me apologetically, but couldn't come up with something to salvage the situation. "See you around," he settled on.

"So that's why Jake doesn't want us talking around you," Seth muttered. "Never listen to us."

Dropping the peel to the side as he got a few plates to put his food on, I nodded absently, as if I was concentrating on the orange. It was mindless work, so I watched as he checked the cheese-covered chicken. It looked completely unappetizing, but werewolves could eat anything, I had found. As I slowly pulled the peel from the flesh, I wondered aloud, "Are Jacob and Leah engaging in sexual intercourse?"

Seth was saved from answering by a sudden pillar of flames, which erupted out of the stovetop. He pushed the pan to the side and then clutched his hand, shouting and cursing and hopping up and down.

"Seth? Seth! I know you're faking so you can stop."

He froze and then with a sheepish grin let go of his hand. "Really?"

"Vampire eye-sight. Be faster next time." I held out the freshly peeled orange. "I guess that means the answer is yes."

"It means that I would rather set my lunch on fire than answer," he said cheerfully. He took the fruit and began inspecting the meat. "Luckily, nothing actually did get burnt. Good. I've been looking forward to this all morning."

"Are you stalling or just avoiding the questing entirely?"

"Both. Can I plead the fifth?"

"You are not in a court of law or any official tribunal. And you are not going to implicate yourself. So, no. Just give me a yes or no. The truth, preferably."

"I don't know." Seeing as I was about to protest, he held up his hands. "I know it doesn't sound believable, but it's the truth. I don't know. She's my sister, Nessie. If she is—ugh—I don't want to think about it. Besides, if I did find out and the answer really was yes, I'd either have to not say anything and feel bad about not telling you and Edward, or tell and feel guilty about betraying Jacob and Leah. So I don't know."

"You're not just saying that?"

"I'm not. On the list of people whose business that is, the name Seth Clearwater doesn't appear."

I couldn't help pouting just a bit. "You wouldn't tell me even if you did know, would you?"

"Probably not." I think my distress moved him to pity, for he added: "Does it bother you? Or do you just...want to know?"

"I want to know so I can figure out if it bothers me or not. You really don't know anything?

Seth ran a hand through his hair and then said, "Fine. This is what I know. Up until two months ago, she had a boyfriend. He dumped her because he said she was cheating with...yeah. The guy was a bit of jerk, but that's what he said. Okay?"

"Thank you."

"Yeah," he muttered. In a more subdued mood than when I had entered, he went to the refrigerator to get milk. Over his shoulder he called, "You're wrong, by the way."

"Am not. About what?"

I resisted the urge to slip away behind his back because I suspected I was going to like this conversation as much as Seth had like our previous discussion. I was right as always.

"I looked up the De Mello kid."

"Was that fun for you?"

"The youngest kid to graduate from college at his time, age of eleven. Which is cool and all, but the part I found really interesting was his relationship with his father. The old man was the one who set out the goals, who insisted he study all the time, who pushed him through college. Daddy Dearest eventually lost custody and the kid now works at Home Depot."

"Fascinating."

He offered me a glass of milk and I took it—calcium was a good idea right then. Unfortunately, Seth was not finished. "You don't think you're smart just because your parents make you study all the time, do you?"

"No." The milk was cold, as I held the glass in my hand. "They don't make me study. Yet to call me a genius would be erroneous. With my supernaturally quick development, it is only natural that I am more intelligent than others my age, or ages, or—the point is of course I'm going to be more advanced than others. Add that to the fact that studying is my single pastime and of course I'm going to be clever. That doesn't mean I am a person of extraordinarily high intelligence who could achieve a rating of 140 on a standardized IQ test."

"Because not smart kids say things like that all the time."

"They would if they did nothing but read all day."

"That can't be all you do. You'd be crazy."

"It was a mistake for Jacob to sign me up for that athletic team. People began to notice I no longer looked eleven, as I had when I registered. My family thinks it is best if I stay home for a year or so. Besides amuse my family, there really is not much else to do but read."

"That sucks." He moved the chicken onto a plate and covered it up, to keep it warm. "It still doesn't mean you're not naturally smarter than everyone."

"Just because I am above average does not mean I'm exceptional. I am not a genius; I am just your normal smarter than average person."

"Averagely exceptional?"

I couldn't help smiling (and flushing; I think I was developing Idiopathic Craniofacial Erythema). "Perhaps," I relented. "But an inimitable genius I am not. Though you cannot tell Father. It would distress him to learn I am not quite as naturally brilliant as he thinks." When he looked hesitant, I had to insist, "You have to promise, Seth. You don't want to hurt him, do you?"

Leah sometimes said Seth loved my father more than Mother did—untrue (impossible), but the werewolf did admire him beyond reason. Seth would not wish to do Father harm.

"Promise. I guess since you're no longer a genius, you can't help me study for the MCATs."

"I don't have to be a genius. They aren't that hard."

He burst out laughing, as he searched through the cupboards for a tray. Lunch was a much bigger production than I had assumed—and he found me far more amusing than he should. Rolling my eyes, I took a sip of the cold milk and wiped my top lip clean.

"Sorry," he said, though he didn't sound sorry at all. "They're not hard...anyway, your dad and Carlisle said they'd help, but they haven't taken them in twenty years, so having you help would be great. If you don't mind?"

"I don't. I'm glad you finally decided to take them. Leah said you weren't sure you wanted to go to med school."

I had thought it was just her way of trying to quietly turn down my family's offer to pay, but since Billy's death Jacob and Leah had seemingly changed their policy with regards to my family's money. As long as it was helping everybody but them, it was okay. So we could take care of Billy's medical bills and Seth's education, but buying Jacob a birthday present was utterly forbidden. Insanity, but not worth fighting about.

Seth shrugged. "I want to go. I just...when my mom ordered me to I stopped acting like it. Which wasn't my most mature moment, but they do love their fucking orders." Wincing, he added. "Sorry."

"Please don't apologize for swearing. I hang around Emmett most of the time and Leah the rest. There is no word out there I have not heard and it is ridiculous for everyone to continuously try and protect me."

"I wasn't apologizing because—whatever. Did you know, Leah taught me the f-word when I was three or four?" he recalled. "I went around saying it for a whole week and my mother was so pissed—anyway. I hope your non-genius brain is smart enough not to start. It's a bad habit."

"There's no need to worry about that. I am tremendously conscientious of the terminology I employ."

With a tub of ice cream on his tray as well, Seth picked up the meal and started heading towards the table. With a jerk of his head, he motioned me to follow. As he sat down, he said, "Yeah. I noticed."

And the infernal blushing would not desist. "When are you planning to take the MCATs?" I asked as I sat down. I did not want to continue to talk about me. "The school year just started and you're not going to have time to write them before the deadline to get in next year."

"I'm going to write them next summer, after I graduate. Then I'm going to spend the year working at this lab down in Seattle, get some hands on experience. I bet you'd like it. They're doing research in bone marrow stem cells. I know a guy there and I think he can get me in. It pays well, too, which is always a plus."

"And you have to do something while you're waiting for me to stop aging."

"And that." He didn't look too upset that he had to put his life on hold until I grew up, but it was hard to tell as he dug through the ice cream. "There really isn't any sense in me studying for a whole year if—yeah."

It wasn't that Seth _had_ to become Alpha if Jacob left La Push, to follow me when I left like I would when I was finally be able to attend college without attracting attention. Seth could allow Sam to become Chief in Jacob's absence—and he could give up speaking to his sister for the rest of his life.

Leah would do most of the administrative stuff, I was sure, things she had learned working with Jacob. Seth could go back to school eventually, maybe, when things were settled. He would mostly be needed for ceremonial reasons, because the Chief was the head of the werewolves and a woman couldn't reasonably hope to fight off any challenges, not when she was half the size of the others. The Clearwaters would be in charge if I asked my Jacob to leave. It wouldn't matter what mark I helped Seth achieve, or how much my family spent sending him to school, because he would be needed at home, if Jacob left.

When he left. I couldn't stay in Forks. Jacob couldn't stay away from me. Why did we all persist in pretending otherwise? Jacob was going to leave, Seth was not going to medical school, Leah was going to be the beta wolf for the rest of her life. And I was going to be Mrs. Jacob Black, no matter how many stupid immature imprudent childish crushes I had on his various friends.

The utter uselessness of it all made it hard for me to swallow.

"Nessie?" Seth even finished chewing before he spoke this time. "My father was an Elder. And his father, and his father. I was always supposed to stay here. Becoming a doctor? That's just something extra that I might get. But if I don't get to...it's not that big a deal. I'll survive the disappointment."

"Are you lying to make me feel better?"

"Only a little bit." He held the ice cream tub. "Stop looking at me like that. Come on, have some strawberry ice cream."

I was working my way through the carton when Leah burst through the door, Jacob on her heels, waving the greasy rag. They ran through shrieking back and forth and I hastily put the spoon down and pushed away the ice cream. I still had to go to the picnic.

"You've got three minutes," Leah called up after him. She took the last piece of orange off her brother's plate and went to the kitchen sink to wash her arms off. "Hey, kid, get the picnic basket out of the fridge, won't you?"

"What's Jacob doing?"

"Taking a shower. The world's fastest shower," she shouted upwards. "You better clean this disaster up, Seth. Mom's going to flip. Did you put cheese on that? So gross."

"It tastes better," he informed her. "Hey, did you say somethnig to Emma? Because she's being sort of weird lately."

They argued for a bit. It really was pointless, because of course Leah had tried to scare off her brother's girlfriend. She couldn't help it. But when she informed me said girlfriend didn't like Jane Austen, I had to concur that she had been partly justified.

"Ever thought of maybe laying off the evil mean scary vibe?" Seth asked.

"No," Leah admitted cheerfully. "Ja—!"

The hand on her mouth cut off whatever other threat she was going to make. My Jacob laughed and avoided the elbow she tried to put in his stomach. His hair was still dripping wet, but he was dressed and clean, as he took the basket from me. Then he glared at Seth.

"You didn't leave anything for me?"

"You're holding thirty pounds of food, Jake. Cry me a river."

"Shut up."

"And we are going," Leah announced. She herded the two of us out the door as her brother shouted goodbye.

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A/N: I hate computers. My tiny break became much longer and less productive than I wanted it to be when my internet went down for a week. Apologies for any delays. And Happy New Year (or whatever you want to celebrate)!


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Three things.

1) Since this is chapter 20, I thought I'd do something I've been meaning to do for a while now. I just wanted to say thank you to all the anonymous reviewers. So thanks to *Lynx*, i14, Venus_Rising, Jj, malfoof, EeveexTDIxTengaatema, Inexcess, shian, kiagurl, Anynomous (hee) and anyone I might have accidentally overlooked. I really appreciate it.

2) I don't want to contradict canon, just expand it. Improbably is okay, impossible is not. If you see something that does contradict the little we know about the half-vamps, drop me a line.

3) If any readers found chapter 18 too awkward, I'm sorry, but you're really not going to like this chapter. Consider this your warning.

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Chapter 20

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The park was overflowing, as people tried to achieve one last beautiful day in the sun. September in Forks was not usually this nice (and a sunny day in Forks was worthy of its own parade). Someone—Leah, probably, or maybe her mother—had packed a blanket in the car and my Jacob easily spread it out in the spot I picked. It was as remote as I could find and there were still a few groups of people nearby.

As the werewolves went to work unpacking the food, I watched the people around us. There was a group of teenagers gathered together, scantily dressed, 'accidentally' touching each other constantly. There were two families, one with three tiny children who kept tugging on each other's clothing, and the other with two kids. They created such a perfect picture of a nuclear family that I felt as if I was watching a photo-op. A little further away there was an old couple playing cards on one of the picnic tables, engrossed in their game. Their faces showed signs of deterioration; their skin was discolored; their hair was thinning at the top. They were rather beautiful.

"What kind of sandwich do you want Nessie?" my Jacob asked.

"I'm actually not that hungry," I replied. Not that strawberry ice cream had been very filling, but I couldn't eat a whole meal now. "Could I just pick at the vegetables?"

"Sure. Carrots or celery? Here, have both."

"That's so unhealthy," Leah sighed. She was about to devour six peanut butter sandwiches, so I didn't take her too seriously. "You're supposed to have a balanced diet."

"I already had my blood for the day," I said sweetly, just to watch them both cringe.

After my Jacob finished pretending to gag, he said: "On that note, I'm going to start eating."

Inhaling, I corrected in my head. It was the more accurate term for what they did, but they were too busy doing it to bother with terminology. At least they managed to talk at the same time; my time with the werewolves would have mostly consisted of silence if they couldn't talk and chew together.

"How come Emmett dropped you off today?" my Jacob wondered eventually. "I thought it was Alice's turn."

My family did tend to rotate me in uniform shifts, but there were always unexpected problems. "She and Jasper went to Oxford last night. He plans to study there, next semester, and she's going to singlehandedly make London the fashion capitol of the world."

"I thought they were going next week."

"That was the plan, but then..." I carefully searched for words that would be true, but inoffensive. "...Jasper thought it best if he left early."

"Why?" Leah's voice was sharp. Even Jacob was studying me carefully. "Why did Colonel Mustard have to take off?"

"He felt like it," I snapped back. It was none of their business; why couldn't she let me be nice to her?

"Nessie," Jacob said in his most serious tone, "If your uncle has done something—"

"Leave him alone. He hasn't done anything." Their glaring suggested I needed to expand upon my answer. "It was just most uncomfortable for him and since they were leaving anyway...it just makes sense."

"Are you going to tell us why, or are we going to have to beat it out of you?" Leah asked. "Kid, if he did something, or almost did something, or thought of almost doing something, we need to know. There are people out there who can't defend themselves and—"

"Stop being melodramatic, Leah. Nothing happened. Can't you just trust that I have a good reason for not telling you and leave it like that?"

The two of them turned to look at each other, in unison. Wordlessly, they debated the merits of pushing me, wondering if the danger outweighed their trust in me. Finally, my Jacob looked directly at me: "You need to tell us why your uncle left, Nessie. Please?"

It was not fair that I could not resist him anything. With a last miserable glance at Leah—who failed to realize how foolish she was being—I nodded my consent. Trying to look anywhere but the werewolves, I announced:

"I began menstruating. The smell, while dissimilar to regular blood, bothered him. So, he left. Are you happy now?"

Of all the emotions on their faces, happiness was about the only one that wasn't present. Fear, anger, disgust, discomfort, jealousy, embarrassment...but there was no happiness.

Yet Leah forced out, "Congratulations, Nessie. That's—that's wonderful."

"Like hell it is," Jacob snarled. "She just turned five."

"I'm weeks away from thirteen," I hurried to point out.

"Five," he repeated. "Shit. Why can't Carlisle stop this or something? You shouldn't have to put up with that for years."

Leah interrupted, before I could remind my Jacob that he was being insensitive, rude and a complete jerk. She said it better, anyway. "Stop being a dick, Jake. It's good news. It means she's part of the natural cycle of life. It's something to be happy about. And it's not like—when did you start, Nessie?"

Assuming she had a point—I really hoped she had a point, because otherwise this was needlessly humiliating—I said, "Two days ago."

"See? It's not like you noticed."

That seemed to calm my Jacob down a bit, though he still looked almost resentful. A few bites of peanut butter and the arrival nearby of a chattering pack of four nubile women helped to relax him a bit. But he would adapt to the changes I underwent, like he always did. Leah was a different matter and her face as she pretended to watch the woman near us prevent her child from eating dirt worried me.

"Do you have any questions?" I offered. "I know I did, so if you want..."

"That's really unnecessary," he hurried to say. Then he groaned. "I suppose for health reasons we should—Leah?"

"Whatever. Lie down and put your hands in your ears or something."

"You're the best," he sighed. Quickly shrugging off his shirt, he lay down on the blanket, head practically in her lap, to soak up the last of the late summer sun's rays. He used his shirt as an impromptu set of earmuffs.

"Men," Leah snapped. My Jacob didn't even flinch—he was very good at ignoring her. "I hope the he-vamps were a little more mature than _this_."

"Carlisle and Father are doctors and Jasper was more concerned about keeping me safe than my uterine lining. Emmett—Rosalie forbade him from speaking on the topic, so he only seemed more mature. I'm sure his thoughts were very much like Jacob's."

"Because being able to create life is so disgusting," Leah mocked. "They...they made sure you're okay, right?"

"Of course. I've been tested more than multiple times. The process is very similar to human menstruation, except it's only going to happen to me twice a year."

"Twice? Why that long?"

"I don't know. There doesn't appear to be any logic whatsoever behind the development of my biological processes. But I talked to the others and they only have it twice a year. They have been most helpful in this matter. Especially Sakhet—she was able to help Carlisle pinpoint my most fertile periods, using the conception of her son as a marker."

It was perhaps plethora of information to throw at Leah, but at least she did not seem sad anymore. Confusion had taken its place. "Okay. Sak-whatever is Nahuel's sister? And she has a kid?"

"Yes. And had would be the appropriate tense. He died. That's why Joham created Shelia, to help make up for the loss of the boy." I did not mention she would have known all this if she hadn't tried to shout me down all the other times I had mentioned Nahuel's sisters.

Leah swore. For once, there was no disgust as she thought about the others of my kind, only sympathy. "How did he get killed?"

"He—he died, Leah. Nothing killed him."

Her eyes narrowed as I presented her with a new puzzle. "Of old age?"

"He lived just over two hundred years and then he began to age rapidly and then he died. She was quite distraught. It was only later that they comprehended that a child who was three-quarters human would probably take after his more dominant side. He was mortal and so he died."

"Does that mean—" Leah looked almost sick. "Your children are going to die?"

"If their father is just human and—yes. They would probably die in that case."

My children would not die. Jacob Black would be their father and werewolves did not die unless they wanted to. The vampire blood in my body should be enough to trigger a transformation and if it wasn't, I was sure my parents or Rosalie would be willing to travel with us, if only to guarantee the safety of my children.

"I see," she said slowly. "Does Jacob know this?"

"Yes," he snapped. I had almost forgotten he was there, he had been so silent. His answer was not completely accurate. Father had told him that Sakhet's son had died and let him work out the implications; Jacob had not felt compelled to stay for a more detailed explanation.

"Father warned him even though my Jacob has actively resisted learning about anything remotely related to the subject." I felt compelled to add, "That's might be part of the reason why Nahuel's sisters are so very eager to come visit—I suspect, and Father concurs, that they would like to meet the werewolves. The sons of werewolves won't die."

It took Leah a moment to digest this next bit of information, but when she did, she became absolutely livid.

"No. No fucking way. Absolutely not. You keep your freaky friends out of La Push or so help me, I will tear you apart limb from fucking limb. They set one foot—"

Jacob reached out a hand to grab her arm. "Calm down," he ordered. "Leah, you need to calm down."

"They're not going to come," I added. "I won't let them. Father hasn't let them, even though they keep asking. Leah, please, I promise: they won't come here."

The shaking stopped, though her voice still contained a large amount of ferocious answer. "Seth is not getting stuck with one of the little fiends. Not while I'm still breathing. Even Embry—you keep them away from here. Nessie?" The panic was starting to emerge from behind the anger. "Don't let them come here. Not without giving me time to get them away first."

"They aren't coming," I reassured her. Not that Nahuel's sisters weren't very nice, but they were not suitable partners for the men of La Push. They were either hundreds of years older than the infantile werewolves or Shelia, and Shelia was...Shelia. Seth might be good for her, but I didn't think she would be very good for him. He would be the best of caretakers, but why would either one of them want him to take care of her constantly?

"They better not." If they did, they were fair hunting game she told me without words. She would not lose the rest of her boys to me. With a tiny nod, my Jacob agreed with her. His pack would not be threatened by that kind of destruction.

"Never," I agreed.

The situation had gone far beyond the awkward I was equipped to deal with. Still, I felt I had to speak: "Are you—I told you I had a good reason not to tell you."

"I'm really am happy for you, kid," she said. "Really, truly. I mean it. It's a blessing, whatever this idiot might say. I'm happy for you."

We sat in silence after I muttered my thanks. I believed her, even if I was pretty sure being happy for me was killing her. Leah got to work pulling out the bag of chips that would serve as our desert. Mindlessly taking what she offered, I watched the other people around us. Life was very funny.

Leah wanted children and could not have them. I did not want them and yet I could have them. I could have them for the rest of eternity. Even Leah's great admiration for the process of childbirth—not to mention Rosalie's obsessive veneration of the occurrence—could not persuade me there was any value in pushing a child out a canal that was usually the size of a quarter.

I suppose my children might claw their way out of my uterus. It would only be poetic justice, after all.

It just seemed rather pointless. Either the children died, as Sakhet's had, or they lived forever, imposing on time that was supposed to be spent in coupled bliss. What was the point? What was all the fuss about?

Besides, if my children turned out to be like the airheads who were staring at Jacob I would have no choice but to kill them (and infanticide was not acceptable). The catalogue family had gone home, but the nearly naked women were making enough noise to make up for their absence. I caught Leah's eyes and directed her attention at the annoyance. It took her only a second to relax her narrowed eyes and come up with a plan.

"Hey, Jake? Don't you want any chips?"

"I'm too comfy to move."

"You don't have to," she said easily, bringing the chips to his lips. "Here."

"Remind me to promote you," he said as he chewed.

"Any higher and you'll be giving me your job, but okay," she agreed. Once he was finished, she made her move. Casually she wiped the crumbs off the side of his mouth, she slowly brought the finger to her own mouth, before licking it clean. I would have rolled my eyes at her overacting, but the women had stopped giggling and were looking jealous instead. Good.

"Stupid whores," Leah muttered.

"What was that?"

"Close your eyes, Jake."

"Okay."

Leah caught my eye and the two of us tried not to smile at one another. What would my Jacob do without us?

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TBC...


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: This story is about the journey and there's lots of it left. Please remember that, especially during the next ten chapters or so...just because you think you're heading one way...

Oh, and my logic is fairly rusty. I'm pretty sure it's wrong, but it seems right and was the best I could do.

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Chapter 21

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"We are lost."

"We aren't lost."

Being the only one who could see logic, I repeated: "We are very lost."

"We are _not_ lost," Jacob insisted.

"Then why are we still here?"

I stamped my foot, forcing the two werewolves to stop walking and address me. Their expressions were identical—defiant. Behind the defiance was pure stubbornness. Joy. Internally, I sighed. We were going to be here forever.

Leah attempted to explain: "The corn maze is only four acres. We are werewolves. We don't get lost on four freaking acres!"

"Except we did," I muttered under my breath.

"I heard that," Jacob said. "We aren't lost."

"Then why are we going around in circles?"

Jacob actually looked cheered by my outburst. "You can tell we're going in circles?"

As I rolled my eyes, a gaggle of little children rushed past, followed by two haggard looking adults. Though they appeared to know where they were going, we didn't follow them. Jacob and Leah were convinced they knew the way out of this death trap—and the last group we had tailed had led us back into the heart of the labyrinth. If only the husks had been a foot or so lower, then Jacob could have simply peered over the tops and gotten us out of here. That gave me an idea.

"Can you put me on your shoulders?" I asked. It might appear I was acting too immature for my age, but if it helped me get out of here, I didn't care if people stopped and pointed. I would have learned to yodel if I could just get away from the corn. "Just so I can see how much further we have to walk?"

The two of them hesitated, but my request allowed them to save face. Eventually, Jacob smiled. "Sure, Nessie. We have been walking for a long time. You deserve a break."

Three hours was not a long time. Three hours was a travesty. A disaster. A crime against humanity. It shouldn't even have been possible—these amusements were not that complex. If Jacob and Leah hadn't given the occasional wince of annoyance, I would have thought they were purposely avoiding leading me to an exit.

Not that it hadn't been fun. The first ninety minutes had been enjoyable, wandering down the different passages, laughing when the corn blocked our chosen path. Then Jacob suggested we should go buy a pumpkin to carve ourselves. Alice had sixty-six jack-o-lanterns around our property, but I doubted a pumpkin carved with the werewolves would look splendid enough to belong in a museum as hers did. I had begun discussing how I wanted our pumpkin to look. Forty-three potential designs later, there was only one conclusion. We were going to have to live in the corn maze for the rest of our lives. That did not sound appealing. At all.

My Jacob easily lifted me onto his shoulders. As he was almost seven feet, I now had a perfect view of the surrounding area. And the exit was located...

"Let's go right, next," I suggested.

"She's going to fall off," Leah sing-songed.

"I promise not to drop you," Jacob called up to me. "Just don't make any sudden movements. Or lean too far one way…actually—whatever. Leah can catch you. She has great reflexes."

"The best," the female werewolf said with a smile. They were doing that thing they often did where looking at each other seemed the most amusing thing ever. It was sort of sweet, now that I had accepted they never were going to let me in on the joke.

"Since none of that was reassuring," I said, "Could you please put me on the ground?"

I suddenly found the earth coming to meet my face at a far greater rate of acceleration than I ever wanted to see. A scream tore from me—I was still screaming when I realized I had already stopped moving. Sure, I was upside down and my hair was in the mud, but I wasn't getting any closer to the ground. Jacob and Leah were both strong and their respective grips on my upside-down body were secure. It was such a shame they didn't have a brain between them.

"You okay there, kid?" Leah laughed.

"You guys aren't funny. My hair's getting dirty."

That spurred Leah on as complaining about the excessive blood flow to my brain never would have. Somehow, she and Jacob managed to get me right side up and she was pushing my hair back into some semblance of normalcy.

"She looks fine," my Jacob said as he stood directly behind her and watched her try and fix the disarray with an amused look on his face. "You're such a girl."

"At least I don't scream like one," she said with a last survey of her work. "We really need to work on the scream, Nessie. It was pathetic. You sounded like a cheerleader."

"Next time you almost drop me on the floor I'll try not to sound so helpless," I promised. "Now can we please leave?"

Jacob bowed and motioned for me to lead the way. I let out a reluctant smile. There were worse people to be trapped in hell with, after all.

Unfortunately, the hell part was not an exaggeration. Twenty minutes later, Leah sighed. "I think Nessie got us lost."

We made faces at each other as Jacob stood on his toes in the hopes of seeing something helpful. Then he said: "I say we just walk straight through the corn. We go straight; eventually we have to get out of here. Right?"

I stopped giggling to scold him. "That would ruin the maze. And while we know it was just because we were trying to perform a public service, the owners would see it as vandalism."

"They brought it on themselves," Leah shrugged. Neither of them did anything, thankfully. Or maybe unthankfully. I might have protested, but I think watching the corn maze burn to the ground would have given me great satisfaction.

"You go up then," Jacob said. "Find us the fastest way out."

"Hands in appropriate places," she teased as he placed his hands on her hips. Leah winked at me, right before she let out her own rather _girly_ scream. Jacob had picked her up as if she were made of Styrofoam and I don't think either of us had quite expected him to be that fast. She made it quite difficult for him to keep her balanced and she was quickly back on the ground, punching him in the arm.

"I thought you were taking anger management courses," he complained.

"I thought you were going to give me a warning."

"It was funnier without one."

"Ha ha. Just shut up and lift me up again."

"Fine. Warning."

This time Leah did not have any problems staying in the air, though she did demand, "Higher."

"Midget," he muttered, as he obliged.

Leah was two feet three inches too tall to have dwarfism, but I didn't point that out. If the more than half a foot he had on Leah made her a midget in comparison, what did that make me? A microbe? If we got stuck in here forever, at least I would have a puzzle to work on.

It was something to work on later. Leah was calling down the directions, repeating them until we could say them backwards—well, I could say them backwards and Jacob could say them forwards. That was good enough. We should be able to get out; Jacob lowered Leah back to the ground, hands in mostly appropriate locations.

"That way to freedom," Leah announced. "Next time I want to celebrate Halloween, don't let me."

"You're not having fun?" he teased. "This is great. I might never be able to eat corn again, but it's great."

"If someone puts it on your plate, you'll eat it, Jake. You're easy that way."

"Unlike you?"

They continued joking back and forth, as I let them walk ahead. It was difficult to think properly around their constant chattering. And I needed to think.

For a while now I had slowly been drawing a conclusion I could no longer ignore. Jacob Black had imprinted on me; he was my soul mate, my center. This was a fact. He was probably in love or lust or _something_ with Leah Clearwater. This was another fact. The two seemed to contradict.

But they didn't.

Why not?

I liked seeing them together. I liked their stupid arguing and their inane banter. I liked their tired jokes and their incessant togetherness. Though I loved when it was just Jacob and me, I did not mind when Leah joined us. I liked watching them interact. I think I liked the way he enjoyed himself when he was with her. Not the way he did when he was with me. He was always happy when he was with me. With Leah it was far more complicated (I don't think they would ever let me know _how_ complicated) but it was a form of happiness nonetheless.

If Jacob was happy, I was happy. He was happy when he was with Leah. Therefore, I was happy when he was with Leah.

Aristotle would be proud of such a syllogism.

My eyes wandered over the hated corn. Barely seeing anything, I went over my predicament.

Shouldn't I be bothered that Jacob was happy with Leah? I was Jacob's imprint, the supposed center of his world. Yet the thought of letting Leah near him did not upset me. Quite the contrary.

All right, so why was I suddenly relieved?

Because that's what the emotion was—relief at finally having a solution. I wasn't five years old, as Jacob maintained, but even at thirteen and a half there was still almost a decade between us. That wasn't the sort of thing that even my fancy knowledge could bridge. I had no desire to do so just yet. That was a problem (just short of twenty-three, Jacob had to be doing _something_ with his time and I wasn't going to help him do it).

They shared knowledge about things that were beyond my maturity and perhaps beyond my comprehension Life, death and sex were concepts I understood in the abstract and as case studies. I didn't understand them the way she did and wouldn't for a long while.

And in the meantime…it made sense that he should be with Leah.

There were things the two of them shared that I could not be part of (and I was strangely okay with that). The memories and the history could never be mine, but the three of us had made memories of our own and I was content with those. The work was also theirs and I did not want that either—La Push was not my home and though I was glad for their sake they were doing good work, I did not care to help them do it.

(I did not want to. His was not a future I desired. La Push, children, a tiny house with a nice television set and scenery that was pretty to be sure, but constant, always constant—how could I ever want that? It was not in me to do so.)

Leah would be enough help. He did not need me.

(Who was I to demand that he find a profession suitable to my desired lifestyle, when he had been born to do something else? Could I really demand he give up his _birthright_? Was that even allowed? How could I ask him to leave? How could I ask him to abandon his friends, his recently refound family, his pack? How could I ask the Clearwaters to do what my Jacob should have done? How could I ask the wolves to give up their leader, their friend, their brother? How could I ask that of him if I loved him? How could I ask Leah not to hate me after I took him away? At least that was easy enough to answer: when I turned seven, Leah Clearwater was going to hate me more than she had ever hated anyone in her long life of constant practice. It was quite simple.)

In time, of course, Jacob would become completely compatible with me. That was inevitable. Everyone said so, when I made them talk about it. Even Leah had told me so once. I was barely three and she was drunk at her cousin's wedding (w_hatever you need, whatever you want, anything, everything, just ask and it's yours...fucking imprints..._) There was nothing I could do about it.

But until that day he would not need to depend solely on my inadequate company. It was the least I could do for him, after he had done so much for me. Loaning him to Leah would make us all extremely happy. It would be easy enough to accomplish.

In fact, it might have been accomplished already. Repeatedly.

A possibly belated blessing was better than nothing. I would give them that. We would be even happier together than we were now. Though our joy at finally stumbling out of the accursed labyrinth was rather extreme.

"We made it," Jacob exclaimed as Leah crowed, "Told you I knew the way."

Almost faster than my eyes could track, she eluded his fist and lifted me right up in a celebratory hug. I had to laugh in relief—I laughed harder when she easily tossed me to my Jacob and he twirled me in circles.

"You dizzy?" he checked.

The world was only spinning slightly. "I'm fine. Can we please buy our pumpkin and get out of here?"

"You want to stay and get a pumpkin?" Leah complained.

Of course, she let me pick out two and then picked out one herself. When Jacob complained that one was not perfectly spherical, she threatened to smash it on his head. They really were cute together, I thought as they carefully placed my beautiful pumpkins into the trunk of my Father's car. Distracted as I was, I almost missed my opportunity.

Leah had already opened the car door before I thought to call: "Wait! I wanted the back."

"Stop being polite. I don't mind; I'm tired," she said.

"No, I want the back. You can sit upfront."

"You can—"

"No, really. I insist."

She stared at me as Jacob laughed. "Both of you better be in the car when I start it because I, for one, am getting out of here as fast as I can."

"You don't mind?" Leah repeated slowly. She had always chosen unexpected moments to be perceptive, but it worked out nicely today.

"I don't mind at all. You can sit there. I'd like you to." My smile was almost painfully big. Certainty could do that to a girl. Actually explaining my recent conclusion to Leah would be painfully awkward, but I was hoping my body language could do the job.

"Okay…" Leah said slowly. She still didn't move, so I stepped forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"He will leave us if you don't hurry," I told her sweetly as I slipped into the car.

"What is she doing?" Jacob asked me. His tone very clearly made it sound like he thought Leah had gone crazy.

"Thinking," she snapped as got in. "Not that you know what that is."

"That would hurt if you didn't say it to me all the time."

"Are you calling me unoriginal?"

"Crazy, right? But I thought bitch was getting a little repetitive."

Leah turned around in her seat to face me. "You don't care if I push him out of a moving car, do you?"

"Not if it doesn't wreck the car."

The werewolves laughed. Leah was still looking at me in the rear-view mirror, still unsure. That was okay.

We had time.

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TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

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Chapter 22

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A week later, Rosalie was braiding my hair in preparation for another outing. In the garage, Father and my Jacob were arguing over which car we would take for the day while downstairs I was sure Leah was using alternatingly vague and direct insults to try and get rid of my mother. Today we were going to visit the Space Needle, something that I had not done in all my years.

"Perfect," my aunt declared. "Now, I think the green Guess purse with the silver buckles would look best. What do you think?"

It might be a little cumbersome, but this way I could carry money of my own. If the werewolves were in a good mood, they might even let me treat them to a second desert or something else of minimal value. Carrying the dratted thing, however, was less enjoyable. It was much better when everyone had deemed me too young for these sorts of inconveniences.

"Alice hasn't thrown it out yet? I thought it was two months old."

"I hid it in my closet. It was too pretty not to keep. So would you like me to go get it?"

I would have offered to get it myself, but I had learned from an early age to stay out of the closets in my house. Emmett once went to grab Rosalie a coat—and was gone for ten minutes. It simply wasn't safe to look for the purse myself.

"Yes, thank you." She darted out of the room, giving me a chance to look in the mirror. Alice had been busy dismantling all the Halloween decorations for the past couple of days, which had given me the opportunity to pick out my own clothes. I wasn't nearly as talented as she was, but I liked to think I wasn't terrible at color coordinating.

I almost looked like a regular teenager, with my slight disproportion and unwelcome baby fat. In a year or so and I might actually be beautiful. Strange—the knowledge was not as comforting as it had been in my childhood. I think I would miss finding things to disapprove of in the looking glass. Rosalie was the only person in my family who bothered looking in a mirror for more than a moment. The rest knew exactly how they would look; they would be perfect, like they had been the day before and the day before that and the day before that...

Forever was a very difficult concept for me to conceptualize, I was finally realizing. I suppose I would get more used to the idea after a few hundred years.

Rosalie came back into the room carrying the purse and I stood to take it from her. Giving her a kiss on the check, I thanked her.

"Are you all right, Nessie?" she said, as she placed her cold hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look directly at her. "You seem...distracted lately."

Figuring out how to make Jacob Black understand something was a difficult task, but most of my energy had not been concerned with plans for him. Leah could be counted on to use force when (only slightly) necessary. He would figure it out. The larger problem was that now that I had started thinking about the future, I couldn't seem to stop.

What was going to happen when I reached maturity? My family's increasingly frequent visits outside of Forks made in perfectly clear that they wanted out of this town (in the past year, only Rosalie and Emmett had not traveled to some faraway place). When I stopped aging, I would stay with my family. Yet somehow I could not picture my Jacob and Rosalie traveling together for eternity. Underneath the route insults, there was still a very pure vein of hate. Maybe I would not mind staying behind with Jacob. Just the two of us, for eternity, sitting around discussing...maybe I should let Rosalie teach me about cars.

Would Rosalie even love me anymore when I stopped growing?

"It's nothing."

"I don't appreciate being lied to, Nessie."

"I'm not—" It would be pointless. Rosalie knew me far too well. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Would you prefer me to call your mother up here instead?"

"Don't be silly. Anyway, we couldn't. I'm sure Leah's scared her off by now."

"What a bitch," Rosalie said with a fond smile. Then her eyes narrowed. "Has that dog—?"

"He's done nothing. Don't worry. I just...why do dislike him so? You tolerate the others."

"I'm sorry fleas don't appeal to me." She glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. "You should hurry down. We wouldn't want you to be late for Doggy Daycare."

She placed a cold kiss on my cheek and then hustled me to the door. Giving me to Jacob always hurt Rosalie, but she was always punctual about it.

Mother had indeed been driven into hiding by the time I arrived downstairs. Leah was talking to Emmett instead, though she was not as engaged as she usually was when talking to my hearty uncle. Subdue was the proper word to describe her countenance; it was not something I usually associated with the werewolves and the feeling was rather unsettling.

"I'm ready," I announced, coming up beside her.

Even for her, Leah was dressed remarkably casual. From experience, I knew her wardrobe contained pairs of jeans without holes in them. She might have worn one of those. The shirt she was wearing hinted at an explanation. It was clearly Seth's; all the male werewolves had some clothing lying around our house, in case they came over and forgot to bring anything with them. Something must have happened to what she had worn, but my hypothesis didn't quite satisfy me.

But when she saw my hair, everything went back to normal. She became affronted as always.

"Why did you tie it back?" Leah demanded. "It looks so nice down."

"She _likes_ it that way," Rosalie said. Slightly incorrectly—I did not dislike it when it was pulled back, the same as I did not dislike it when it was hanging down. I didn't like either, really. "And Nessie always looks nice."

"Runs in the family," Emmett said as he threw his arm around Rosalie's shoulder.

"I suppose we ought to let the two of you be, then," Leah said as she hustled me out of the house. Though she sounded quieter than normal, I was not alarmed until I saw my Jacob in front of my father's Astin Martin Vanquish.

I knew nothing about cars, but I did know my Father. Only in terrible situations, when the only solution to a problem was to drive very fast in the best possible manner, was anyone allowed to _touch_ the Vanquish.

"What's going on?" I asked, glancing between them.

They didn't look at each other as Leah crouched in front of me, attempting to lessen her height so we could look one another in the eye. My Jacob was off to the side, leaning on the car, dark eyes on me. For the first time in my life, neither one looked at the other.

When Leah began to speak, her communication was slow as if she was trying to recall a previously memorized speech or (curiously enough) as if she were attempting to select her words with care. Her voice was gentle and her eyes remained firmly locked onto mine.

"We were going to wait until you were fourteen but since it's almost impossible to figure out how old you are—"

"Five," Jacob supplied, but under his breath so as not to interrupt.

"—now seems as good a time as any. You can pass for a short seventeen-year-old, maybe. Anyway, no one is going to look twice, or concern themselves in business that isn't theirs. You won't attract too much attention, which is why we—"

Jacob snapped straight and began pacing behind me. Leah cringed, but continued: "That's why Jacob and I have decided that you no longer need me to accompany you everywhere."

She stood up then, tugging at the shirt. I could only stare.

"I do not understand. Jacob? What...?"

He gave me a tight smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Leah has better things to do with her time than babysit the two of us. So she's not going to anymore."

By the time I looked back at Leah she had mostly managed to hide the hurt and was smiling instead. It looked painful.

"Why are you saying this? Why are—I don't understand."

"You aren't my responsibility, Nessie. You've got enough people for that. We've been humoring them for long enough. The two of you don't need me, you've never needed me. So I'm going to go now."

"But you can't—you just can't—that's not—but you're—you can't!" There was a peculiar burning feeling behind my eyes but I tried my best to ignore it. "You can't leave us!"

It wasn't just my future plans she was destroying without thought—plans I desperately needed her for—but my present as well. Traveling with Jacob was perfect, of course, but I couldn't stop myself from picturing Leah with us as well. She belonged with us. How could she think she didn't?

"I'm not—Nessie, you need to understand that I'm not—jeez, kid. I'm not your slave. I don't have to go where you order me to. So I'm going home. I'm taking a hot bath. And I will see you whenever Jacob decides to bring you around La Push."

There was not much else I could do but nod, nod and stare, and nod again. It was impossible for me to do anything else, seeing as something large seemed to have sprung up in my throat. She really was demanding never to come with us again. Leah was divorcing herself from us completely. Even though...

My Jacob was playing with the keys to his car, studiously ignoring the two of us. I would have demanded he do something—anything!—but his expression was clear. He would not stop her. Why was he letting this happen? Just as I never thought she could depart from him, I did not think he would let her separate from us.

"It doesn't happen often," I whispered.

"No," Leah agreed.

"Then..."

"This is goodbye, kid. Be good. Remember to have some fun, sometimes. And don't eat strangers. 'Kay?"

"Okay. Goodbye." She nodded at me and turned to travel to the woods, where she could transform and run home. It came out before I could stop: "Leah?"

So she turned around, came back and hugged me goodbye. Her arms were strong and warm, but they held me lightly as I buried my head into her shoulder. The heat didn't quite help stop the tears from welling in my eyes, but no one would have seen them just then. Her lips were beside my ear, her voice so faint I wasn't sure I hadn't imagined it, telling me, "Take care of him for me."

Then she pulled away and was gone.

My Jacob opened the passenger side door and went around the back to get in the driver's seat. It was not a coincidence, I suspected, that his route gave me a moment to brush the tears from my eyes. Composure had to be maintained; it would upset my relatives too much if I started crying hysterically.

Why was I so upset? I had never desired Leah's presence; I thought I had only begun to tolerate her. I had been mistaken—very mistaken. It felt like something was missing from inside me. The biological impossibility was unendurable.

How could she not stay?

It was inconceivable.

Preposterous.

Outrageous.

It positively sucked.

The door shut behind me carefully, but I could only stare out the front of the car in horror. My Jacob got in and flipped through the key chain, searching for the proper key. Eventually he found it and started the car.

"Did she just..." I searched carefully for the phrase I wanted, but eventually came up with only one that suited. Part of me suspected it would hurt him; perhaps that is why I selected it. "Did she just break up with us?"

"It's not me she doesn't like," he snapped as he switched into drive and slammed on the accelerator.

The words hit me like a heart attack, shooting pain I couldn't stop. Warming to her as I had been, maybe I had been mistaken in thinking it a reciprocal arrangement. Maybe my younger self had been right. Maybe she had never cared. The stupid liquid dripped from my eyes, but I was careful to blink it back, mostly.

Because I was not used to being wrong and I wasn't about to start now.

"It's you she's angry with, not me."

It wasn't me. She cared about me, in some way. It had not been my eyes she avoided, me she wouldn't touch. Her hands had not lingered around his neck. Never before had I seen the werewolves have such little contact and he was not going to blame that on me when it wasn't my fault. I could not help being born. I would not be sorry for that and I had not consciously tried to hurt them further.

I dared to glance at my Jacob, who was staring at the road. Unlike before, he did not seem hard as stone, but empty, like a circus tent after a show, after all the crowds and the animals had gone and all that was left was forgotten and empty wrappers on the ground. Quietly, he apologized.

"I shouldn't have said that. It's not true and it's totally out of line. I'm just...I'm having a really bad day, Nessie. A bad week, actually. I shouldn't have taken it out on you and I'm sorry."

A bad week? Had I accidently done something? Or was that merely a figure of speech? Carefully, I asked:

"Are the two of you okay?"

"We're fine," he said quickly. Too quickly. "I'll admit I didn't agree with her that it was time for her to stop coming, but it is her life so—anyway, it's not as if the two of you got along great or anything. It'll be good for you to get away from her—and Bella will be happy."

"It's just me that's going to be different?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you still living at the Clearwater's?"

"Of course," he said stiffly. "And she's still on the council and helping with the pack. Nothing's changed, except for my outings with you."

"I see," I said. "But you tried to convince her not to stop coming with the two of us?"

"Yeah. I thought it was in your best interest to stay around a woman, but—maybe I wasn't as diplomatic as I should have been. Oh well."

I could have left it there, I suppose. Maybe it would have been kinder. But something was aching inside of me and in the face of the overwhelming, unexpected pain, I no longer cared about Jacob's. I just wanted answers.

"What did you really do to get her so angry?"

"Nothing," he said. "I did nothing."

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A/N: Why yes, the next couple of chapters are not going to be fun if you like any of the following: Nessie/Jacob, Leah/Jacob, vampires, half-vampires, werewolves and/or humans. Cheer up; it ends eventually. And remember: Chapter 11 will be a whole lot funnier if Vanessa Hudgens actually is Leah Clearwater (yeah, that's right. I sort-of-quasi-not-really-totally-didn't call that piece of what?-really?-uh-sure…-whatever-I-can-make-this-all-about-me potential casting). Hee.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: This chapter is like being a teenager...a necessary evil.

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Chapter 23

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In 1969, the psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross published a book called _On Death and Dying_. It outlined what we today call the Kübler-Ross model, the process by which people endure tragedy. Colloquially known as the Five Stages of Grief, they were to be applied after catastrophic personal loss. Kübler-Ross was concentrating on such traumas as terminal illness. Loss of Leah was not a fatal disease, but somehow I still felt like the world was ending. Denial, anger, bargaining and depression seemed worth it if I could finally gain acceptance.

I was mourning Leah as I had been incapable of mourning Billy, though she was still alive. Strange. My pain was no longer abstract, derived from watching the suffering of those close to me. It was concrete, heavy in my stomach. It was so severe it was reducing me to mixed metaphors. Intolerable. Five stages of grief were clearly needed immediately.

I spent the drive to the Space Needle in denial. It simply was not conceivable that Leah should have left us. It wasn't physically possible for her to disregard her Alpha, even it if was emotionally possible (which I had not thought was the case—perhaps it was the shock at being so wrong that was devastating me).

On the elevator ride up, I switched to anger. More than anger—pure fury. How dare she abandon us? How dare she make me care about her emotional, irrational, violent self and then turn her back on me? It was brutality, plain and simple. I hated her!

Anger lasted only for the ride up. For some reason it was much harder to maintain than denial had been.

As I stood on the top of the Space Needle, Jacob watching carefully as I leaned against the railing, bargaining began. I wouldn't complain about her ever again. She wouldn't have to take me anywhere, anymore. We could just stay in La Push, if she would just talk to me. But even as I stared across Seattle—never before had I cared so little about the view in front of me—I knew I was wasting my time. I could not make Leah Clearwater do anything she did not want to do. Once, I thought only my Jacob could, but as he sulked beside me I realized that was false as well. He could not help me.

That combined with the seemingly permanent loss of Leah is why I spent most of the car ride home trying not to cry. Even my dense Jacob understood playing tourist was not desirable today, so he drove us home immediately. I blinked away tears.

Eventually, it dawned on me that it was all futile. No amount of crying would bring her back. She was gone. She would not return. There was nothing I could do. My Jacob might not be omnipotent, but he would be enough. We would be happy without her. Perfectly happy.

Arriving home, Jacob came around to open the door for me. He was smiling again, reluctantly, but smiling. As I got out of the car, Jacob said for the hundredth time that day:

"I really am sorry for snapping at you before."

"Jacob," I said cheerfully, "Stop it. It's perfectly all right. I know you didn't mean it. I'm fine."

"Are you sure, Nessie?" His brow was creased, his eyes searching.

"I am fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I had to say it hundreds of times in the coming months, but it was the truth. I was fine. I was happy.

Ecstatic.

Perfect.

Fine.

I was fine.

If I snapped at Jacob, it was because his jokes had never been funny and he needed to learn that sooner rather than later. If I ordered my mother to stop babying me, it was because I could not handle her constant desire to play happy family. If I gave away all the purses Alice sent me from England, it was because I didn't need any more material goods. If I hated being in the company of others, it was because I was tired or busy or not feeling well.

I was fine.

When I screamed at Rosalie to stop playing with my hair, it was because she was in my room for no reason and not because Seth had shown up, to do whatever it was he did with Father and Emmett, sans sibling. I was fine, if a little distracted. Perhaps that was why I didn't expect her to yell back at me.

It was the first time anyone had ever yelled at me. A gentle scolding every so often was the only time my behavior had been criticized before (besides Leah's mocking jabs and a few muttered comments people kept under their breath). And now Rosalie was yelling at me?

It wasn't fair!

I was sulking in my room later that week, when Jacob came to visit. Lying on my bed with my back to him, I could hear him sighing as he watched me. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed. "You still mad at me?" he asked.

"I told you I never was."

"Is that why you don't want to go anywhere with me anymore?"

I had gone, in November. He joked almost constantly and laughed too loudly and generally made it painful to watch him. It was bad enough I was upset. I didn't want to watch him hurting as well. So I answered a little more angrily than I had intended.

"Everyone's always shopping, in December. It's uncomfortable for me to be around all those people. I want to eat humans sometimes, remember?"

"I remember." He was quiet for a long time. "I miss hanging out with you, even if you are a bloodsucker."

"That name is derogatory and unflattering," I said as I rolled over. He did look like a dog, a puppy that was used to being kicked, and I didn't have the heart to keep being mad at him. "I'm sorry I keep cancelling our outings. I just don't feel up to them. But I'll—you can take me skating in Port Angeles this weekend. Okay?"

"Good. Are you sure you won't tell me what else is bothering you?"

"Everything annoys me lately, but I don't think there's anything you can do about that," I muttered. "You can go now, my Jacob. See you at eleven on Saturday. Should I—you'll remember?"

"Someone bought me a day planner," he said as he rolled his eyes. "Lame, right?"

I just gave him a hug.

It was easy to be friends with Jacob again, it always had been. Repairing everything with my family took a little longer. Though I was trying, I didn't always succeed in being as pleasant as I had once been. When Alice and Jasper returned for Christmas vacation, my family accosted them downstairs as I lay on my bed. As always, I could hear them perfectly. As always, they tried to pretend otherwise, as if we were a normal family.

"She has these…moods," Mother whispered, horrified, glad her best friend was finally home to comfort her. "She was never like this before. We don't know what's happening."

"Edward," Alice said, "Have you forgotten you can read minds, again?"

Father sounded affronted, having his beloved power questioned. "She took a page out of your book. She's either studying or singing 'I Will Survive' almost constantly. In multiple languages!"

"Sorry," Emmett muttered. He should be. His was the obsession with disco. Or rather, he was obsessed with Rosalie in gold lamé hot pants. I was of the opinion he only used the short shorts as an excuse to play the catchy tunes constantly and dress up in white bellbottoms, but I never said so aloud. Emmett would not have appreciated my observation.

"We're very worried," Carlisle said and that brought a somber mood back to the group. "If the two of you had any suggestions on how to help her, we would like to know them."

And then, to my great surprise, Esme spoke up and ordered her husband to stop trying to fix everyone and her children to just leave me alone to sulk for a little bit. She didn't phrase it quite that way—space to grow is what I believe she said—but the point was the same. So I rolled out of bed and went to greet Alice and Jasper properly.

Alice gave me four hugs and Jasper gave me a handshake. Alice had bought me enough clothing for the entire next year and then disappeared inside one of her trunks to find the 'darling' emerald necklace she had bought for me.

Jasper just offered, "I could make it go away, for a little while. If you wanted."

It was tempting, very tempting. Feeling whole once again would have been nice. It might even have helped. Or it might not. It would have just been a false sense of peace and it would not last. If it could not be real peace, I would rather have the pain.

"No thank you."

Alice had a smile that was ten times as big as Jasper's, but his was nice, nonetheless.

I tried to keep busy. My family was quite useful in that capacity. When the New Year rolled around, Emmett forced me to write out a list of resolutions and when they were not as exciting as his, he just ordered me to help him. I was kept very busy building a Lego cottage in the backyard. Alice and Jasper returned to England while I designed working shutters out of plastic blocks.

Father decided the copious amounts of snow were too warm for his liking, so he dragged me to northern Canada during January. Despite the cold and the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, it was nice to go hunting with my father. Mother was usually the one that took me and it was easy to see why. With Mother, hunting was a fun chore. With Father, it was dangerous and terrifying—and wonderful. There was unadulterated freedom hunting with Father and it was glorious.

After bonding with Father, it seemed only fair that I do the same with Mother. Part of me was secretly exhilarated by the knowledge that it would annoy Leah to no end. It gave me such joy that I made a foolish mistake.

I decided that I would use the opportunity to prove scientifically that Leah wrong, that Mother did not deserve the hatred the female werewolf heaped upon her. I asked my Mother to go over the period right before her transformation, where Leah's dislike seemed to stem, and this time I pushed for details—names, conversations, dates and anything else she could think of.

It served me right that my mini-interrogation yielded unfortunate results.

Mother had never been a good liar and it was very easy to tell when she was holding something back. That coupled with the fact that she could not deny me anything meant that now that I was paying close attention, now that I was pushing whenever I saw hesitation, I was getting a slightly different story than I had ever heard before.

Soul mates?

Really?

Soul mates?

(Better to be furious about her and my Jacob than to think about the fact that Father turned her into vampire even though he believed it to be a form of damnation)

It was unfortunate, but I suppose I had to know eventually. And before I could let the heartache consume me, Emmett dragged me back to his cottage to help him build Lego chairs. I also made sure to write a very nice letter to Alice asking for more purses. She obliged by sending me a truck full; Rosalie and I had a very amusing three days sorting through them.

The winter began to fade, though the weather in Forks was never what anyone would call enjoyable. It was on one of those rainy March days that I found myself curled up in bed. The fetal position was not working. I was considering death as an appropriate alternative.

"It'll be okay, Renesmee," Mother promised. Behind her back, Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"In three to five days," I whimpered. "That's too long. This is torture."

It was as if my heart had fallen down the body cavity and then proceed to constrict in unendurable agony. Or as if someone had stuck their hand through my lower belly and proceeded to squeeze and twist my internal organs. Or that my life force had fled the rest of my body and settled down there and was now trying to stab its way to the outside world. I rubbed my lower abdomen and wished my vampire half had chosen this opportunity to reassert itself.

"There must be something else we can do," Esme said from the foot of the bed.

Curling up tighter, I watched as Rosalie left the room. I had expected this to be difficult for her and tried not to take it too personally. It was actually hard to care much about my aunt when I was in agony.

"We could give her more medication," Mother suggested.

"In another twenty-six minutes, dear. Nessie, are you sure you don't want us to look up something to cure this?"

"Endured, not cured." I knew that much at least. The men in the family should not be researching the solution and the women would not leave my side. It was rather annoying how none of my female relations could remember anything about it at all. "It's a natural process that we should not interfere with."

There was a loud thunderous noise from the washroom beside my bedroom. I blinked and sat up when Rosalie came back into the room. "How would you like a hot bath?" she announced. "I even put bubbles in it for you."

So that was heaven.

Curled up in bed, in my pajamas, I let Rosalie tuck me under the sheet. Her success had earned her the room to herself.

"You didn't think of that yourself, did you?" I asked her quietly.

"No." She ran a hand through my curling hair, internally debating how much to say. "Your mother didn't provide me with many human options."

"You could have called Sue." Even with part of my body on fire, my voice could still sound remarkably cold. Interesting.

"I did. She wasn't home; you were in pain. I did what I had to do."

Rosalie wouldn't have been able to ask Sue Clearwater for help. Not Sue who's body had stretched and swelled and pushed out two children, who suckled them at her breast and who still bled from a secret place once a month. Not Sue who mothered her own children and anyone else's, as long as they happened by—Rosalie could not have asked her for help, not even for me.

"It was cruel to ask her."

It was cruel that Rosalie had to ask.

The two of them would have been amused by their mutual pain.

"She was worried about you. She said...she said she missed you."

"It was her choice," I muttered into the pillow.

A hand brushed the back of my head, as Rosalie's voice got very, very quiet. "Don't be too angry," she whispered. "It's not easy, Nessie. It's—it's very hard loving someone who isn't yours."

I reached up one hand and laced our fingers together. Hers were long, cold and smooth. Mine were short, warm and wrinkled from the bath. They made quite a funny looking pair. I felt I had to remind her, "That doesn't mean they don't love you."

It made her smile, even though she was still miserable, sitting on my bed and comforting a daughter who was not hers. Who could never be.

I started to cry.

She pulled me into her lap, a far different place than Jacob's, though only vampire memory allowed me to compare the two, it had been so long. Both had strong, secure arms that would never leave me. The refreshing feel of her skin was not as naturally comforting as the heat had been, but it didn't really matter.

It didn't matter that she was not my mother, or that she understood the impossibility that was Leah not always being there. All that mattered was that she loved me and I loved her.

She loved me so much that when Seth came home two weeks later, she scared Grandpa Charlie into suggesting Sue invite me over to celebrate his homecoming. It would be rude not to go and visit Seth.

The Clearwater's house looked exactly the same as it had almost six months earlier, if slightly more weather beaten. I wasn't about to be particular. Grandpa Charlie drove me over but, to my surprise, he used his own key to let himself in. It was about time. When Sue caught my slight smile, she narrowed her eyes, but she gave me a hug and motioned me towards her son.

There was no blushing when Seth hugged me—I thought about believing in a higher power for all of six seconds and then concluded that time was simply much kinder than I had ever suspected. Thank…something, because the discoloration in his presence has been humiliating.

And then he let go of me and there she was.

She looked no different than she had on that fateful day in November, except her hair was an inch or so shorter than it had been. And today, she was smiling.

She hugged me. I hugged her back.

"You look good, kid," she announced.

"Thank you. You do, too. Have you been well?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the rest of them retreating to the kitchen. They might not be able to read minds, but humans could figure things out just as easily, sometimes.

"Sure. You know, I haven't been lectured in an awful long time. Sit down and tell me about annoying things I don't care about."

"I'll instruct you on something you can't pronounce another time. I just finished constructing a working candelabra out of Lego yesterday."

"Seriously? Awesome. How long did it take you? Five minutes?"

I laughed and settled down on the couch beside her. It was different from before, but not a bad different, I decided as we continued to reacquaint ourselves. It was almost as if we were truly friends now. No longer did every mention of my family make her cringe; today she seemed to enjoy hearing about them. Though she teased me still, she smiled throughout it. I almost preferred this Leah to the old one. She was already planning another get together when a thundering sound came from the stairs.

I hurried to greet my Jacob—he had thankfully forgiven me for my few months of undesirable behavior. He was still wet from the shower, but he easily picked me right off the ground with his hug.

"You're early," he accused me.

"You're late. Everyone else was here to greet me on time."

He glanced at Leah and I suddenly wished I had stayed on the couch. "That's great," he choked.

She said: "If you two have to catch up, I can—"

"Actually, I was just about to—"

"No, really, it's not a big—"

"I insist—"

"No, I—"

"No—"

It was like watching two people trying to get through the same doorway, only whichever way they attempted to go, they kept blocking each other's path. I had the urge to scream. Fortunately, Seth chose that moment to call from the kitchen: "Someone needs to set the table and I need Nessie in here to crawl through the cupboards!"

"You two should get to work then. I have to go help Seth," I announced, hurrying out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.

Seth was by himself in the kitchen. Sue and Charlie were barbequing in the backyard, while he played solitaire on the counter.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Get those plates out of the cupboard."

"The ones that are on the counter?"

"They're already on the counter?" Not even Seth could look innocent this time. "Oops."

"So they're always like that now?"

"I've been home three days and I'm already going nuts. I think Mom's going to kick them both out soon." Since he couldn't see the obvious move, I moved the cards for him. "Thanks. You know, Mom would kill me if I hit Leah, but if you don't mind, I don't think anyone else would care if I hit Jake."

As tempting as it was... "He's stronger than you are."

"Be logical," he sighed, with a smile.

I thought about the way they had danced around each other. "Well, maybe if I held back one arm you would have a chance."

Seth laughed even though I was partly serious. Just because I had accepted that this was the way things were now, didn't mean I had to like them. And it definitely didn't mean I was going to let them stay this way.

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TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: There's a sort of quote from _Grease_. Don't own it. Cryptozoology is the study of animals that might exist (and by might, I mean don't).

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Chapter 24

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"Did Alice really pick that out for you?"

"Stop complaining about my wardrobe, Jacob. Father has done that enough for everybody."

"Fine." The two of us were silent for a minute and then he grinned. "You have to show me your dad's face when he saw you."

My outfit was not ridiculously improper—it wasn't my fault my aunt liked buying the nicest push-up bras in the country. In addition, wearing long skirts would be a dead giveaway that my family was from another century. Too bad my parents didn't see it like that. I dutifully reached over and laid my hand on Jacob's arm, showing him my father's shock (and threats) at seeing my attire.

Chuckling, Jacob wondered: "How did you even get out of the house?"

"I informed him I was actually much more conservatively dressed than others my age. And then I threatened to stay in and ruin my mother's special surprise."

"Gross."

Very gross. But... "It worked."

"Stop getting evil, Nessie," he said. "You'll scare away everyone at the bonfire."

Not that I needed help in that area. I may have been looking forward to Quileute party for weeks (Leah might actually have to talk to Jacob if we were all in public) but chances were I was going to have an abysmal time. The werewolves could be amusing, but they didn't really feel comfortable talking to me—or looking at me, or even breathing close to my person. And no one had anything in common with the half-vampire freak.

There were many people around the campfire by the time we arrived; we had come rather late since the debacle with my clothing had taken time. Seeing everyone, I tugged my skirt down as I exited the car, trying to preserve some semblance of propriety. Meanwhile, Jacob had not bothered with a shirt.

"It's not that hot out," I informed him as we walked towards the beach.

He just looked confused. "Are you cold?"

Some people just could not take a hint.

Around the fire were various people, most of whom I recognized from Billy's funeral, which was one of the worst conversation starters ever. Here were all the werewolves of La Push, and their respective families. Jacob quickly led me over to the side of the fire where Embry and Quil were talking.

"Look who finally showed up," Embry said as they both rose to greet us. The three of them hit each other on the back, then on various appendages. Only when the violence was complete did they finally turn their attention to me. Quil reached down beside him and came up carrying a young girl, slightly small for her seven years.

"Look Claire," Quil said in her ear. "This is Nessie."

Big dark eyes, which didn't recognize me at all, gazed in wonder. "Look Quil!" she cried and reached out one tiny hand and yanked on my hair. Rosalie's hard work went straight and then carefully bounced back into place. The fire light left no doubt that my hair was almost truly red now, though the perfect curls were going to be destroyed if Claire kept pulling on them.

"Don't tug on people, Claire Bear," Quil admonished, even though he laughed just as hard as she did, when my hair jiggled.

Thankfully, Jacob decided to speak up. "Where is—?"

"Hey you," a familiar voice said behind us.

We turned to find Leah had also arrived. She greeted Jacob with a quick grimace that was supposed to be a smile and ruffled my hair before she hugged me. "How have you been, kid?"

"I'm fourteen now. Are you ever going to stop calling me that?"

"Nope," she said. There was a small cough from the man behind her, which brought my attention to him. Just an inch or so shorter than her, he was handsome enough, but not very interesting to look at. Yet she smiled at _him_. "Nessie, I want you to meet Rick."

"Nice to meet you," I said sweetly as we shook. "It's good to finally have someone close to my height around here."

Jacob snorted but tried to turn it into a cough. Ricky looked affronted, but Leah just narrowed her eyes. As she let the midget wrap his arm around her waist, she turned to address Jacob as if I hadn't said anything at all.

"Been here long?"

"We just got here. Have you talked to Rachel yet? That's where we're heading to next, if you want to join?"

"Sounds good. Thanks."

Who would have thought I would hate it when the werewolves were overly polite and stiffly formal?

Jacob placed a hand on my elbow and pushed me after Leah and Ricky. On the other side of the fire, downwind, Rachel was sitting beside her husband, cradling the six-month-old baby boy. As the adults cooed over the tiny creature, it was impossible not to notice how strange they all were. Paul was getting annoyed by the crowds (territorial, I guess) contra his wife who couldn't stop beaming at everyone who came past. Meanwhile, Leah was trying to act happy and failing, Rick was trying to figure out why she was upset while attempting to keep between her and Jacob at all times, and Jacob had surreptitiously put his hand in the small of Leah's back until she final smiled properly. Their interest was puzzling, but I feigned curiosity and pretended the child was as fascinating as all the adults seemed to think.

I suppose it was aesthetically appealing in a small, round-ish sort of way.

Once we had finished admiring young William, Jacob brought me around the fire to talk to the Uleys and Old Quil Ateara, who had been seconds away from death for over ten years now and showed no signs of ever crossing over. As fun as talking to the Elders of La Push was—thankfully Leah stole me away.

Ignoring her stupid boyfriend was easy enough, though getting her to talk about herself was like pulling teeth without vampire strength. Nothing interesting had happened to her, she said—I privately agreed Ricky was not interesting, but his presence was. Not that we could talk about him with his stupid mug always behind her—why couldn't she see that my Jacob was vastly superior?

"You're pouting again, kid. Your face is going to freeze like that," she teased, after Ricky had left to get us marshmallows.

"He's boring," I said flatly.

"Sometimes boring is good."

"And he has a terrible sense of humor."

"That means so much, coming from you."

"I'm funny. And not funny looking," I said, just because the werewolves could be that predictable sometimes.

She tried scrapping the melted sugar off her finger with her teeth. "I noticed. Idiot boys on the beach have been staring at you all night. I bet he hasn't even noticed; always was thick."

I was still not quite full grown, but I suppose the boys of La Push did not care about a slight disproportion. Not that I cared what they thought, though I couldn't quite stop the blush. But I brought the conversation around to more important topics. "Maybe you should warn Jacob," I said as innocently as I could. "In order to protect my virtue."

"Virtue?" Leah snorted. "You are so your father's daughter."

Unfortunately, Ricky came back. "I brought you some chocolate so you guys can make smores," he said as he sat down beside her. If that wasn't enough, he put his arm around her shoulders and said, "Here you go, babe."

My stomach lurched, which softened the glared on my face, I hoped. Quickly rising, I announced, "I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

Though she looked like she wanted to protest, I was already stalking off. Not only was Rick enough to induce nausea, but...I really couldn't handle the sight of chocolate. I ended up talking to Quil and Embry on the other side of the fire. One had rather speak to a child and the other couldn't stop accidently making fun of my family, but at least they weren't calling anyone 'babe'. Still, Quil and Embry had their own annoying quirks, which is why I practically threw myself at Seth when he finally appeared.

"Good to see you too," he said, after I pulled back. "Have they scarred you for life?"

"Repeatedly."

"And has Jake beaten them up yet?"

"He's busy discussing seals or something with Sam. Did you know I am the only female here between the age of nine and nineteen?"

"So talk to the guys. They might act intimidating but they'll be glad to..." I glared until Seth finally figured out that while some of the younger werewolves were not averse to staring at me, they were never, _ever_ going to talk to me. "Right. Scared of Jake."

Terrified, actually. It was annoying and, worse, it was lonely.

"Is there anybody here who isn't a werewolf?"

"Nope. Actually—I don't know if he came but...you want to give me ten minutes? I just have to go...do something and I'll be right back."

Embry smirked and asked Seth: "Don't you mean fifteen minutes?"

"And that's why you can't keep a girlfriend," Seth said cheerfully. "Gloria's not even here, asshole. She had to work."

"Gloria? What happened to Emma?" I asked.

Embry chuckled. "She reached the happy one year one month and twelve days anniversary."

"What's that?"

"That's when Seth breaks up with them."

"And that," Seth sighed, "Is why you barely have any friends, let alone a girlfriend. Nessie? You studied integrals, right?"

"A while ago, yes. Fortunately..."

"...vampire memory. Good. Ten minutes," he said and then disappeared. I sat down beside Embry, who moved his beer away from me as if I coveted the foul drink (I wouldn't have minded _trying _it, because I liked learning, but seeing me drinking anything with any sort of alcoholic content was assured to cause Jacob's heart to collapse and I didn't want that).

I tried expanding my knowledge in other ways.

"Does it really only take fifteen minutes?"

Embry Call choked on his beer. It was actually sort of entertaining, even if it meant he never did answer my question. I was becoming quite resigned to the fact this was one branch of knowledge that the whole world (minus Emmett, who loved his wife too much to be of much use) was conspiring to keep from me.

It actually only took Seth nine minutes to get back to us, crowing about his own brilliance. "Come on," he said, pulling me to my feet. We took off in the direction of the parked cars. "So you're going to do me a big favor. Brady's got a younger brother. I usually tutor him, 'cuz he's trying to study ahead, so he can have more time to work when he goes to college. But I can't remember a thing about integrals."

"Seth, I might be socially challenged, but even I know that doing homework on a Friday night is pathetic."

"Sam hasn't let his pack tell their families. It sucks for Frank coming to these dumb parties, since most of the other guys are big, tall and not telling him the truth. He'd much rather be home playing WoW, but since Brady doesn't want to leave him there...anyway, come on, Nessie, please? If he is scared, it'll be because of you and not Jake."

That was cheating; it was far too tempting. "Fine. Maybe it could be fun." I hated how ungrateful I had become lately, despite myself. I tried to sound gracious. "Thank you very much, Seth."

"You're welcome."

"I haven't seen your mother, tonight. Is she...busy?" It went without saying that she was fine. Sue Clearwater was always all right.

"Charlie had some police dinner or something. I didn't pay attention. I think they're coming later."

A rather sickening thought popped into my head and came out my mouth before I could stop it: "If Sue and Charlie legitimize their copulation, I would be your mother's daughter's daughter. I would...that would make you my uncle."

Seth just laughed, oblivious to my relief at remembering the blushing had stopped before tonight. "But since they're never going to get married, I still don't have to buy you Christmas presents. Sorry."

"You don't think they're ever going to get married?"

"Why would they?"

"Because everyone gets married. Because if you love someone, you marry them. Because it would make their living arrangements much simpler. Pick one."

He laughed again. "They've both already been married. What they have works without rings."

"You seem very sure."

"I guess they could...but if Mom wanted to get married, they would have done it years ago. If she does do it now, it'll only be to bug Leah. Plus, Charlie is scared getting married will ruin everything. He actually came out and said that to me once."

"Grandpa Charlie often lets fear paralyze him into inaction, doesn't he?"

"Everybody does that, I guess," Seth shrugged. "Which reminds me, Frank probably won't talk to you very much outside the math thing. Don't take it personally. Kid's just shy."

As we continued walking, I received a brief lesson in all things Frank. He was seventeen, brilliant and couldn't afford school without constantly working his way through it, which was why I wasn't to charge him for this impromptu tutoring session (I would have asked if Seth ever charged him, but I already knew the answer). Seth did warn me I might find his hobbies strange—I reminded Seth I hunted mountain lions in my spare time. He laughed and conceded I might be the weirder one.

Not that Frank was by any means normal. Thinner and far smaller than the werewolves, if taller than me, his hair was down to his waist. There were braids and beads and feathers in it and it fell in his eyes. In his ears were strange devices used for physical disfiguration and he had a piece of metal in his eyebrow. Mostly hidden by his hair was his skin, which was marked by the remains of what drug store acne cream had failed to clear up.

Despite that, he wasn't completely unappealing. Certainly, he was fascinating to look at, as he sat in the back of a truck, surrounded by textbooks he was reading by the light of a couple flashlights.

"Hey," Seth called and the boy's head shot up, startled. "Frank this is Nessie—she can do integrals in her sleep and she's willing to help. Just use your manners; keep me from getting killed. Okay?"

The boy looked from Seth to me and back again. "Uh...yeah."

"Good." Seth lifted me right up, so I was in the back of the truck. "Now I've got to get myself something to eat...I hope Colin left something for the rest of us."

Seth wandered away, thinking of crispy sausages, leaving me alone with a strange boy. And textbooks. It was impossible for me to feel uncomfortable with textbooks around even though I was suddenly very conscious of the height of my skirt.

He handed me the notes. I read them quickly. He held out his work. I explained it. He understood what I said. I made slight, exacting corrections. He listened and adapted. I set practice questions. He answered them correctly.

If only all social interactions were this simple.

I was in the middle of checking more of the problem questions when Frank spoke his first words towards me that were not math related. "Did Seth say your name was Nessie?"

"Yes. Do you want to take a look at chapter ten as well?"

"Sure. Is that short for Nessa or Vanessa or..."

"The Loch Ness Monster, actually." Frank looked at me like I was a little crazy and then a slow smile appeared on his face. "Don't laugh. I'm being serious."

"_Nessiteras rhombopteryx _was just too long?"

I found myself almost involuntarily returning his smile. "How do—it was just _impossible_ for me to spell as a child."

He answered my unasked question. "I wanted to be a cryptozoologist when I was kid."

"You've given up on your dream of finding Bigfoot? That's heartbreaking."

"Not given up," he assured me with that same slow smile. "Just put on the back burner. One day the world will realize that the large hairy bipedal creatures that wander around here aren't just my brother and his friends."

I giggled—and made a mental note to ask my family if it _was_ possible that photographs of Bigfoot were of shapeshifters of some kind. Frank asked: "How do you know...everything?"

"Homeschooling. Mass producing freaks since...well, that I don't know."

"You're talking to a guy who brought math work to a party because he thought it would be more fun than talking to other people." He rolled his eyes; at himself, I realized. "I thought I was the only one here who knew what cryptozoology was."

"You don't mind that I think it's ridiculous offshoot that mocks the validity of real, scientific zoology?"

"Not at all."

We did less math after that.

We were discussing the eight major taxonomic ranks of biological classification when Brady came up to the car. I only vaguely recognized him, especially since his eyes were three sizes larger than they had previously been. "She needs to get out of here," he said, already pulling on my arm. "Jacob's been looking every—shit."

Jacob was already there, Leah right behind him. "Where the hell have you been all night?"

"Here. Doing schoolwork. Calm down, Jacob, I'm coming. It was nice to meet you, Frank."

"You too, Brainiac," he said slowly. Despite his sharp mind, he was careful when he spoke. But he dared my Jacob's scowling face anyway. I couldn't help grinning, even as Leah and Jacob proceed to drag me away. I even got in a wave before they marched me out of sight.

"You two are behaving absurdly," I said. But I wasn't that upset. As embarrassing as they were, at least they were being embarrassing together. "Would you both calm down and explain why you're so distressed? I was just giving Seth a night off from tutoring."

"Seth? Seth..." Jacob trailed off. That's when Seth came up behind him, chewing on a hot dog.

"You called?"

Jacob turned around, fist first. He hit Seth straight in the jaw, a sound so loud it must have echoed throughout La Push. I might have shrieked in surprise, but Leah's hand was over my mouth. Seth's head had snapped back and he stumbled back a few feet, hot dog falling to the floor. I almost hoped he didn't recover, afraid Jacob would hit him again. Only it was Leah who waited until her brother was sure on his feet before landing a second punch.

"What's wrong with you two?" I demanded, grabbing onto both their arms. I didn't think they would risk trying to throw me off, and in that, at least, I was right. As Seth ascertained if he still had all his teeth, I continued: "Stop it immediately."

"You set my five year old imprint up with a junior?" Jacob hissed. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Are you _trying_ to break my jaw?"

"I didn't realize the lead paint actually did destroy your tiny brain," Leah continued, taking over ranting duties. "I can't believe you just left her alone with a kid you barely know—"

"We've known him since he was born," Seth muttered, though they didn't pay any attention.

"—in the middle of nowhere. What if he had tried something? What if—?"

"I'm stronger than any human could be," I broke in. Since they weren't going to listen to Seth, they would just have to listen to me. "I know math better than anyone in La Push. That's the only reason I was in the truck tonight. Really, you're both overreacting. Especially you, my Jacob. Seth was not trying to 'set up' anything. Tonight he was merely trying to alleviate my boredom by allowing me to exercise my brain. That's all. So the two of you should get over yourselves."

Jacob and Leah looked at each other for the first time in a long while—Ricky was nowhere in sight and I decided I had better climb into the backs of cars more often. When they broke eye contact, Leah told her brother, "That better be true."

"We're going now," Jacob announced. "You need a ride home?"

Leah looked away. "I'm going to catch a ride with...so no."

"Whatever. Seth?"

"Fine," he mumbled.

Jacob decided, "I'm just going to go say goodbye to Sam. You two stay here. No more letting teenage boys near her, understand?"

Seth tried not to roll his eyes as he nodded. Leah and Jacob slipped off into the night, leaving the two of us alone with my guilt.

"I didn't realize they'd do that to you," I apologized. "I would never have stayed that long if I thought—"

"Not your fault I live with the King and Queen of hit-first-ask-questions-later." Seth sat cross-legged on the pavement. "It was almost worth it to watch you tell them off. Are the bruises gone yet?"

"Not even close. Were you having good night before this?"

"Mostly. Though it turns out my girlfriend's mad at me for some reason. She sent me a un-smiley face in a text and I have no idea what that's about."

"Maybe because you already know the date you're going to dump her on?"

"I'm ignoring that," he informed me. "Stop lecturing and start helping. What does a guy have to do to prove he thinks you're special?"

"Jacob follows me everywhere and tries to control who I talk to. You could try that. It worked for Father."

"I thought it was his piercing topaz eyes."

"You gaze into his eyes often?"

"Oh, shut up," Seth grinned. "You're worse than Embry. You better watch yourself, Nessie. You were sounding a bit bitter before."

"Mother went over her memories of her courtship with my father, recently. It was rather... illuminating. Father doesn't believe vampires have souls. Not because the whole concept of a 'soul' is foolish and improvable, but because he thinks vampires are unworthy of them. Mother's still a vampire. He's very lucky they are going to live forever otherwise..." I didn't know what I would do exactly, but I would have to be furious with him. "Did you know she thought of my Jacob as her soul mate?"

"So glad they grew out of that. Jake in love was—well. It's nice to see I earned that punch."

Jacob _had_ loved Mother, beyond reason. My only hope was that Leah and I had made quite sure he loved her no longer; even if Leah never did oblige me and engage in a relationship with Jacob, at least she had helped sabotage his relationship with Mother far beyond what I could have done on my own.

"Don't worry about it. You know what the worst part is?" I asked Seth. "It's not even that he was in love with her first or that she thought she had a soul mate and married Father anyway...it's that I thought they had told me everything. And it turned out...how did I miss so much?"

"I told you—it's the topaz eyes. You can't focus on anything when they're around."

I giggled and held out my fist: "Knuckles?"

"Knuckles," he agreed as we bumped fists. "Thank you for saving my jaw. And my teeth."

"Anytime. Though I should get a reward, right?" I didn't wait for him to answer. "Can I ask you something and you won't tell Jacob?"

"Funnily enough, I'm not really inclined to do him any favors at the moment. Shoot."

I tried not to blush, because that would give away my reasons for asking and if Seth figured it out, he might feel obligated to tell Jacob and that would just not end well. "What's WoW and can you teach me how to play?"

For a moment, he just looked confused and then...he caught the half-smile just in time. If he understood my plan, he was going to pretend he hadn't. With a carefully controlled expression, Seth began to explain the strange culture behind World of Warcraft.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

* * *

I suppose it would have made Jacob happier, if I had just lied to him and arranged everything behind his back. For a while, I had considered it. Seth would never have dreamt my requests might be anything other than pure, and Leah, and maybe even Sue, could have been won over with logic and a bit of pleading, but the logistics would have been hard to orchestrate. Besides, I hated the idea of lying to Jacob.

So I told him the truth.

Mostly. I may have altered my reasons a _tiny_ little bit.

"I want to invite Frank over to watch the movie with us today. To make up for the way you treated him the night of the bonfire." I watched Jacob's face as it twitched with annoyance. "If it's all right with you. Please?"

"I didn't even lay a hand on the kid that night," he muttered.

"You marched me off like I was a common criminal. And then dislocated his brother's shoulder last week—which did not foster fraternal affection."

As Frank and I had remained in contact through various online means, I had unfortunately heard the news of Brady's injury, and subsequent recovery, more times than I had ever wanted. Was it too much to ask, hoping Jacob would play nicely with others?

"The thing with Brady wasn't—that was a territory thing. Sure, I might have enjoyed it a little more than I was supposed to but...he healed."

I rolled my eyes, but just said, "You've had a lot of problems with territory lately, haven't you?"

"Don't worry about it," he shrugged. Like it didn't matter to me.

Maybe I was sulking a little, when I responded. "I hope you have it under control. I would hate for you to miss the wedding."

"I'm not going to miss it." He only wished he was. "Is...are the others still coming?"

"The half-_vampires_? Shelia just wrote me yesterday. Elmira finally agreed, so despite her reservations, yes they are. I don't think they would have come if she had insisted on staying away—the three of them do not do much apart." Not quite what my Jacob wanted to know, but I wasn't going to make this easier for him. Though if I did, maybe he would cease his harassment of Frank. "And Nahuel's coming, of course. He would have come regardless."

"Of course," Jacob muttered, but opened the door to the Clearwater house without further comment. He didn't have to say anything. I had heard his arguments with my parents—Jacob was under the delusion that Nahuel planned to club me over the head and drag me by the hair back to his cave to be his mate. As my imprint, he had to protect me from hair pulling.

But in the face of Nahual, Jacob did not forbid me from inviting Frank. Rejoicing in my success, I followed Jacob into the kitchen. There, the beautiful sight of familial love greeted us.

"Who the hell puts cookies above the fridge?" Leah was demanding of her brother.

"I didn't know the cookies had their own special spot."

"They do! Any place that's not above the fridge."

"Do they get lonely up there?"

"Don't be an idiot, Seth."

Seth said something stupid, in order to prove that reverse psychology really did work. "You're just jealous 'cuz I'm taller than you."

She hit him in the stomach. Needless to say, she did not hold back. As her brother doubled over, trying to breathe, Leah said sweetly, "Not anymore, asshole."

"I'm telling mom," he whined as he clutched his stomach.

Jacob finally saw fit to intervene in the domestic disturbance. "I'd move the crackers."

"Thanks," Seth muttered.

As he hobbled around the kitchen to do just that, Jacob pointed to the phone. "Go invite the kid. Not like he has anything better to do on a Saturday afternoon."

"If you're going to talk like that, Jacob, then I'll just invite myself over to his house."

Jacob and Leah smirked at each other. Thank you, Frank. It was Leah who shrugged. "You're never going to Brady's house."

"I will if Frank invites me."

"No you're not," Sue announced as she came into the room. I wanted to stand up straighter and salute her, as she went to the fridge to gather some groceries. I suppose she was making dinner at Charlie's again. The two of them were most strange, with their impracticality. Living together would be much cheaper—the savings on gas alone would be significant.

Jacob attempted to explain, "It's Sam's land."

Sue opened her mouth to say something else, but Seth cut her off: "You need me to carry that stuff to the car?"

"You offering to be helpful or to bum a ride?"

"Both."

Sue sighed, muttered something about lazy offspring, and helped me to figure out where Leah got her tendency for dramatics. "Well, what are you waiting for? Pick them up and let's get going."

We said goodbye as mother and son headed towards the door. Jacob turned to me and asked, "Aren't you going to call?"

I glanced at Leah, but she wasn't about to help me. Fine. I didn't need her. "I sort of already did."

"What?"

"Well, it's not really your house, Jacob. I asked Leah's permission before I came over."

She scowled at me as Jacob turned to face her, his eyes looking like they were attempting to escape from their sockets. "You're letting her hang out with—with—" He couldn't even get the words out. "I thought—I thought you were on my side. Boys are evil!"

"As much as I agree with you...it's not like we don't know where she is because my idiot brother forgot to tell us. Nothing's going to happen in this house. She's tough. And you need to let her meet other people."

"Not seventeen year old boys. Do you know what goes on in the mind of a teenage boy?"

The two of them stared at each other for a second, then burst out laughing, in unison. Frank wasn't even present, but I think I fell in love with him, at that moment. As Leah tossed a dishcloth in Jacob's face, he just shook his head ruefully.

"Sorry."

"You should be. All of you scarred me for life. Fifteen seconds is such an overstatement."

"Fifteen seconds?" I asked quietly.

The two of them hesitated, but after Jacob gave the tiniest of nods, Leah offered: "That's sort of a saying about how often guys think about sex."

"Teenage guys," Jacob corrected. Leah raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. So he whipped the dishcloth at her rear.

"Ass," she muttered, punching him in the arm. They both seemed surprised and I tried not to wonder if it was the first physical contact they had performed in months. In the interests of not letting the moment turn awkward, I decided to distract them.

"What's the statistic on teenage girls?"

"Girls don't think about sex," Jacob announced firmly.

"Do you really think brainwashing is going to work?" Leah asked.

"It's worth a try."

"Let's pretend I didn't ask," I said with a smile. An overly bright smile I had to direct at Leah, because as much as I loved Jacob and he always knew exactly what I was thinking...he was going to be intentionally obtuse today.

Leah rolled her eyes, but ended with a wink. Then she obliged me by saying, "Hey, Jake? You want to go buy that dishwasher we were going to get my mom?"

"Sure. The movie won't take that long."

Her sigh echoed through kitchen. "Now, dumbass."

His voice rose until it was higher than mine usually was. "You want to leave them _alone_ together?"

"The genius child is not going to do anything stupid. Besides, Frank's a big pussy. He won't lay a hand on her." Though she mouthed the words, she didn't say them, so Jacob didn't hear her when she added, "Unless she tells him, too."

Unfortunately, I could see her. That's why I was bright red when he said:

"I don't like it."

Jacob looked awfully sweet when he pouted, in my opinion. I think it just angered Leah, however, because she began ranting, just a little bit.

"Oh stop being all Ward Cleaver. The kid should be able to do whatever the hell she wants and you have no right to stop her. Or can you just not leave her alone for two freaking hours?"

And just like that, it was as if it was the week after Halloween and nobody wanted to look at anybody anymore. I wanted to cry as Leah stared out the back door and Jacob stared at Leah, trying to figure out what he could say that wouldn't make the horrible situation worse. The doorbell rang. Frank was thirty seconds too late—I could never love him now. How disappointing.

"I'll get it," I mumbled, pushing past them.

"Fine," Jacob declared. "Fine. We'll go."

I turned around, a little bit shocked, to be honest. Despite assurances from various Clearwaters, I had never expected Jacob to agree. My private hope had been that Sue would create some particularly enticing culinary miracle to distract Jacob, or Seth would stick around and the two would end up wrestling so Leah would be justified in kicking Jacob out of the house. Never did I think Jacob would actually allow me to be put in any sort of jeopardy—no matter how much I begged.

Neither had Leah, if her shocked but slightly glowing expression was to be believed. She returned his smiled tentatively, asking, "You sure?"

"Yeah. We'll sneak out the back. Don't feel afraid to break his bones, Nessie. Any and all of them."

"Thank you, my Jacob," I said, throwing my arms around his neck, lifting myself right off the ground. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. Wait. Do your parents know about this?"

"Of course," I lied smoothly. It wasn't really a lie. Rosalie and Alice knew. I needed to look nice, and neither one would stop me. Of course, I had spent the past two weeks talking Rosalie out of hiring a private investigator, to make sure Frank was suitable, but that was a minor annoyance. And Father and Mother would find out the next time I saw them. Possibly. If everything went well. "Now, go. I have to answer the door."

Leah's fingers just barely brushed against his wrist. With one last sigh, he turned to follow her out of the house. As the doorbell rang again, I watched them as they walked down the porch steps, together.

When I opened the door to greet Frank, I was practically glowing.

"Hi," I said eagerly, still bouncing with excitement. I was acting like Alice, dancing across the room, but I didn't care. "Come in. How have you been?"

"Good. You?"

He followed me through the door, backpack swung over his shoulder, glancing around carefully. As he nervously pushed the tangled wreck that masqueraded as his hair behind his ear, I had to ask: "Are you looking for something?"

Voice down to a whisper, he admitted, "My brother said I should find Jacob Black and grovel for a few minutes in order to avoid evisceration."

"Jacob's not here. He went...out. With the Clearwaters. They let me take over their house."

"Oh." There was a slight darkening of on his cheeks and then he blurted out: "As part of the bushido code, samurai warriors would sometimes perform a ritual suicide called seppuku, where a cut was made across the abdomen. Sometimes the internal organs were pulled out before decapitation occurred."

"I didn't know that," I admitted. "Jacob wouldn't decapitate anyone. Leah might, but Jacob wouldn't. I promise."

Once he had gotten the morbid factoid off his chest, Frank seemed to calm down somewhat. Placing his bag on the kitchen table, he leaned against the furniture and asked: "What do you have over them anyway, to get the house?"

During our various discussions online, I had revealed that I lived just outside of Forks with my family. I wish I had thought to come up with an excuse as to why Jacob was so terrifyingly determined to protect me. I settled for a few truths that were rather misleading.

"Jacob's an old family friend. He's known my mom most of his life. He feels he owes her to look out for me."

"And the Clearwaters just—actually..." Looking a little nervous, he said, "They sort of just do what Jacob wants, don't they?"

"He's their friend."

Frank snorted. "Seth talks about him like he's the second coming. It's kind of...weird. And embarrassing. The guy can't be that awesome."

Swallowing down my retort—though Seth could be a little overenthusiastic about some people, I'm sure he had only done Jacob justice—I didn't bother explaining. I couldn't—Brady was part of Sam's pack and I had no right.

"They've been friends a long time. They've all known me my whole life."

"I picked up that one." He fiddled with the heavily beaded necklace he wore, lost in thought for a moment. Then he abruptly changed the subject. "I wanted to thank you again, for helping me out. With all the math stuff."

"Well, thank you for your help on those quests."

"You didn't do too bad, for a noob."

"Thanks."

His praise was less glowing than I deserved. Having more brains and needing less sleep than the humans who played massively multiplayer online role-playing games, I was climbing up the ranks in the strange pixelated world of Azeroth much faster than I should have been. Though I still did not understand the point. Frank hadn't understood the question, Jacob and Leah maintained there was no point and that I should get a new hobby and even Seth had come up with only the uncertain, "It's fun?" Why would you devote your life to something when there was no purpose?

Still, it was enjoyable. When people couldn't see you, they were much more likely to trust you. Humans were strange that way. And watching Emmett slowly become addicted to becoming a master fisher was rather funny.

One hour and he couldn't stop. Everyone in my family was amused for now, but I could hear Emmett talking to Jasper and it was just a matter of time before he convinced my other uncle to give the game a try. And then...despite the fact you couldn't win, I had no doubt Jasper would find a way. The poor humans would never have a chance.

"So what's in the backpack?" I asked as I took a seat at the kitchen table. He sat down beside me, opening it up to show me the computer inside.

"It's not a good idea for me to leave it at home. No one there really gets that they have to treat computers with respect. I padlock my room, but I keep my laptop with me because while they don't realize the other stuff is valuable, even their tiny brains recognize laptops."

"Your brother's a snoop?"

"Naw, Brady's the one who bought me the computer. He might be a total meathead, but he tries to get it. He's only a year older, you know."

He stated the fact as if I wouldn't believe it and it took me a moment to remember that the werewolves all appeared older than their actual age. I think Leah was only the second to reach her physical age, and that had only happened recently. Add that to the fact Frank didn't quite look seventeen and I could understand why I was supposed to be confused. If you didn't know about werewolves, the whole thing would appear a great mystery.

"So the two of you are close?" I asked.

"We were—I guess we still are. You might not have noticed, but he's...a big guy. He turned thirteen and just sort of—he got lucky."

"I bet he thinks the same thing about you."

Frank hadn't stood around me in a circle, expecting to die. I'm sure Brady thought his brother was the fortunate one.

But Frank remained oblivious. "Doubt it. He's always off with his friends...I guess I shouldn't complain. When he remembers I'm alive, he's pretty cool. And he keeps my dad off my back. Best day of my life, when Brady hit puberty. I guess I'm just pissed he always acts like his brain is in his bicep."

So apparently, it was a werewolf problem. Jacob was never going to be cured of his need for violence. Joy.

"What's it really like?" I couldn't help asking. With the date of the wedding fast approaching, I wanted to meet the hybrids with a better understanding. "Having a sibling?"

Frank deliberated for a moment and then provided his verdict.

"It's the best and worst thing, ever."

"I thought so." I hoped they liked me. What would I do if they didn't? I forced myself to smile. "So are you ever going to show me those moves you keep talking about?"

Ever obliging, Frank opened his laptop and proceeded to give me a much more detailed tutorial of his latest strategy.

* * *

A/N: Please correct me if my terminology is wrong. And just so there's no confusion—the wedding Nessie is talking about? Is not hers. You will find out who's getting married the next chapter, if you don't guess first.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: MiZZ SaHurr was the first, but not the only one to guess correctly...too bad I'm not doing the two lovebirds justice. Nessie's got other people on her mind.

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Chapter 26

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The wedding invitations had come two months before, but they had long been expected. Alice had visions of them arriving years previously and so the whole family had made sure to clear their calendars. It would not do for us to miss Kate and Garrett's wedding.

The Denali clan were the other group of vegetarian vampires, and consequently were close friends with my family. Most of my family—Mother disapproved of Tanya's brand of friendliness. Still, we were intimate enough with their clan that they were kind enough to extend the invitation to my Jacob and, even more excitingly, to Nahuel and his family.

I was finally going to get to meet the other half-vampires.

We had kept in touch over the years, through letters (none of them were really up-to-date on technology) and telephone calls. But we had never met. They had their own lives. My family was not eager to have Nahuel visit and Elmira had no desire to meet the people responsible for her father's death. Especially when I was just a child.

But I was growing up now. Just shy of fifteen, only fifteen months away from being full grown, I was old enough that she had allowed her sisters to accept the wedding invitations. They would be arriving soon.

That's why I stood inside the Denali living room in my nicest dress—one that disguised the last remaining bits of baby fat on my body and thus made it appear I was almost grown up—impatiently awaiting the arrival of the people on the planet who were most like me.

"They'll love you," my Jacob reassured me. He was not quite as happy as I was, to meet other freaks, but he was doing his best for my sake.

"Says you," I muttered. "What if they think I'm too human for them? Or too vampire? Too domesticated, not—"

"Nessie, you're perfect. And if these things are half as smart as you, they'll see that easily. Now, stop pouting and smile. Otherwise they really won't like you."

My Jacob was saved from making further unhelpful speeches by the ringing of my phone. It did not surprise me to find it was Leah. As arranged between us, I quickly hung up and then dialed the number back.

"Leah called for you," I said as I held out the phone.

They had spent most of the car ride here talking, since I spent most of the trip pretending to be asleep and werewolf reflexes allowed him to be distracted as he drove. Thanks to Frank, and a little maneuvering on my part, they seemed...not quite back to the way they had been before, and certainly not as close as I would have liked, but better. I could accept better, for now.

"Can I call you back?" he asked her, as he took the phone from me. "She's about to—what? You're joking." Turning his back to me, he wandered further into the room, trying to keep the conversation private. I didn't care. They were here.

The others.

They were the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

All four of them were...perfect.

Beyond perfect.

For the first time, I was not attaching names to photographs, but to people. I stood by the window and watched as they exited from the car Father had driven to pick them up from the airport.

Sakhet was first, the eldest, the most graceful. All of Joham's children had dark hair, though they all had radically different features. Her eyes, reminiscent of slate, were the most striking feature on her face. The color was natural, contra to my family. Us hybrids did not change eye color, no matter what change our diets underwent. Sakhet appeared to be the tallest, as she walked down the line that had assembled outside to greet her, stopping to speak carefully to everyone.

She would be let indoors if and only if my family found her suitable. From the expressions on their faces, I would say she would be with me shortly.

Shelia trailed closely behind her sister, looking far darker than Sakhet as she tried to stay in the older woman's shadow. Unlike the others, there was something unsettling about her appearance. She was beautiful, to be sure, but everything about her was strangely proportioned. Her appendages, where they stuck out of the huge orange parka she was wearing, were too thin for her body. Her arms were too long. Her legs were too short. When she walked, it was with a crouch—Sakhet placed a hand on her back to straighten the younger girl's posture, but it wasn't working. Yet it was Shelia I was most pleased to see. I had longed to meet my unusual friend.

Behind her was Elmira, the one with the sharpest features, cheekbones that could cut, a nose that parted her face distinctively. Her smile was less friendly; she had been Joham's favorite. But she had come to see me and there was no hesitation in her steps. She barely seemed to take any, merely flowed from one position to the next, so sinuous that it was hard to track her movements properly. When Eleazar tried to keep her in conversation, she moved away with such ease that it didn't even appear rude, though his mouth was still open in question. Her movements were most like Alice's balletic grace, but with a purpose and a studied air that my aunt never had.

Last, but not least, was Nahuel. He was beautiful, just like his family, this dark-skinned boy who was the only male of my species. As he stepped out of the car, he paid little attention to the greeting party. He just searched the surrounding area. Teak colored eyes quickly found mine, as I stood in the window. It felt like we were the only two in the world, him and me, as we finally locked eyes after all this time. I had to fight not to blush.

Poor Frank.

Poor Jacob.

One perfect smile and I was mesmerized. I think that was the point of his gaze.

Tearing myself away, I took a steadying breath and tried to listen to what everyone was saying. The Denali were welcoming them, but—thankfully—directing them towards my location. I was to keep them occupied, out of the way so the adult could prepare for the wedding without disruption. I only hoped I was up for the task.

"Jacob," I hissed. Carlisle offered Sakhet an arm, to lead her inside. My family wanted to watch our meeting. "Jacob, they're here. Could you finish up?"

"Calm down, Leah and—hold on a second." He turned around to look at me. "Do you really need me with you?"

"Of course," I blurted out without thinking. I could hide things from him, but lying to my Jacob still required too much effort for me to do it spur of the moment.

So he hung up on Leah.

I didn't need to hear her half-angry, half-fearful call from the phone to know I shouldn't have said that. Right beside me was Jacob's face, attempting but no quite succeeding in hiding the bitterness. His smile was forced and I was going to apologize, going to beg him to call her back, but the door opened.

Sakhet's eyes immediately found mine. When she smiled, her teeth were perfect (we had enough vampire genes for that). But I do not think that was the only reason I thought it was a nice smile. She seemed pleased to meet me.

Her voice was rich and warm, her English almost perfect, as she said very simply: "It is a pleasure to meet you."

I didn't respond, too shocked by the flash of orange. Shelia stopped abruptly in front of me, than slowly walked around me, studying me, her thick, bright parka making the movements cumbersome. "Lovely," she declared. Burying her face in the crook of my neck, she inhaled deeply. "Nessie," she named me. "Now we together."

Over her shoulder, I could see that the others were inside as well, staring at us. Even Jacob was watching, eyes wide with confusion. I glared at him—he should know to mind his manners by now—and then wrapped my arms around Shelia. "Together," I echoed.

Her long arms encircled me completely, thin branches that would be so easy to snap. Neither too warm nor too cold, I held her tightly to me.

"You are together," Sakhet corrected quietly.

Elmira suggested, "Why don't you introduce us all, habibati?"

Both women had only love in their eyes. It was because of Shelia the girls forgave me for killing their father, forgave Nahuel for giving the kill order, forgave even the Volturi for striking the final blow.

Joham had not led a blameless life. Not be any stretch of the imagination. His daughters did not care, not until they had seen what he had done to one of their own.

After Sakhet's son had died, the three had gone to Australia and found a beautiful woman who would suit Joham's purpose. Like the other mothers before her, she knew enough of the legends to suspect, but was too blinded to notice. Once Joham had finished with her, the family left, content in the knowledge that their return seven years later would present them with another member.

Only they could not find her.

They searched the continent and could discover no trace of their sibling, not for years, not until chance had Elmira happening upon the corpse of Shelia's mother in the middle of the Outback. Both women had grown up in the wilderness alone—it was not Shelia's apparent isolation that concerned them. They simply couldn't conceive that there would be enough blood to sustain her in the barren desert.

Joham delivered his verdict. If vampires could be killed, half-vampires were even more vulnerable. The child should have been starving and careless. Since there were no reports of massacred villages, the child must have died. So he left.

Elmira stayed for another two years and then finally rejoined her father. Sakhet did not leave. Six years she wandered the desert, enduring the blazing heat, surviving on the minimal blood that could be found in a place where people did not tread. And one night, she heard the animals crying on a mountain top and looked up and saw that one of the creatures howling at the stars was her sister.

They fought, because Shelia would not leave the desert willingly and could not be persuaded with words she did not understand. Sakhet was a few years away from four hundred years old then, but she was not the tired old lioness she appeared. When the battle ended, she was the undisputed winner. She bound Shelia and called Elmira to her. Elmira took one look at the half-starved, wild woman and called her father. Joham signed his own death warrant with a flourish. He saw his daughter, his long-lost, physically unwell daughter...and he laughed. He named her Shelia—just a normal Aussie girl—and said she was an interesting case study. His daughters said nothing then; just as they said nothing when the Volturi came to kill him.

Shelia still jumped at the loud noises of civilization and her body would never fully recover from being malnourished during its developmental stage. But when her sisters asked her to, she stepped away from me and said clearly, if with a couple of strange accents:

"Renesmee Cullen, it is our pleasure to meet you. My family is grateful for the opportunity. I am Shelia. That is Sakhet. That is Elmira. That is Nahuel. We welcome you."

Her head jerked to look at Sakhet, who patted the younger woman's hand. I let my attention wander from them to Nahuel, who stepped forward and hugged me. If Shelia felt perfect in my arms, there were simply no words to describe how Nahuel felt.

"Please forgive my aunt's absence," he said in a warm voice that held the barest trace of his original language. "She felt the trip would be too grueling for her."

That was the nice way of saying she hated travelling because the close proximity to humans was far too tempting. We were lucky that while it was alluring when we were hungry, human blood did not call to us the way it did to the true vampires. It may sound callous, but I did not mind that his aunt had not come. If anything, it would be simpler with fewer guardians to get around.

"She will be missed. I am glad you could come, however. Very glad."

"As am I."

"Share, Nahuel," Elmira commanded. "We want to meet her as well."

"Of course," he agreed and passed me to her. She was unstable under my hands, quickly replaced by the more tightly coiled Sakhet, who held me firmly to her chest.

"It past time we met."

"Agreed." I felt as if I could fly, I was so excited. "Please sit down and tell me everything."

The two older women laughed, but kindly. Elmira explained, "The centuries have provided us with many stories."

"I want to hear it all."

"You shall," Sakhet agreed. "If it is agreeable to our hosts."

My parents—all my relatives, really—had no choice but to obey her. Older than even Carlisle, she looked it to, in some strange indefinable way, even though she had stopped aging at eighteen and he appeared a man of twenty-three. It was Esme who answered:

"If there's nothing we can get you, we will leave you alone, then."

"We would be most grateful."

My family began filing out, to help the Denalis and Garrett who were working to decorate the rest of the house. With a motion of her hand, Sakhet told her sisters to seat themselves on the couch behind her, while Nahuel came to sit beside me. I could feel Jacob hovering behind us, unwilling to leave my side. Or unable—I caught the glance my father shot him before the door closed behind the full-blood vampires. I needed to have a babysitter.

I wasn't the only one who noticed. "You are the werewolf?" Nahuel asked. "I seem to remember you, from before."

From the deep in her chest, Shelia mumbled, "Dorum drru," until her older sister told her to hush. I minded Shelia's strange noises far less than the covetous look on Sakhet's face—or the predatory one on Elmira's. Only Shelia seemed not to care, though she did blurt out, "Smell very nice," much to the displeasure of the others.

"Yeah, I'm the werewolf," Jacob said almost rudely. Who was I kidding? He was being downright hostile. Of course, he was. How selfish was I?

"Could you excuse us a moment?" I begged my new friends. When they nodded, I hurried to pull Jacob into an adjoining room.

"What did Leah want?" I whispered.

It was too dark to see his face properly, though somehow I knew he was lying anyway. "It's not important, Nessie."

If he was going to be like that...I was wasting too much time already. I wanted to get back to the others. "Give me my phone," I demanded. "Hurry up."

It was only reluctantly that he did so, but I wasted no time in dialing Leah. When she answered, her voice was ragged.

"Oh, so now we're important," she snapped.

"Leah? What's wrong? You sound—is everything all right? Is Sue—?"

"The backstabbing bitch fine," Leah interrupted. I almost gasped. "Is Jake there?"

"Yes, but he's not telling me what's going on. What happened, Leah?"

"Sam went to the Council. He says...it doesn't matter. They're listening to him. It's always bothered them, about..." Leah didn't finish, just broke off cursing. I had to fill in the blank myself.

"Me. The treaty with my family. How your Alpha imprinted on a Cold One."

"Half," Leah corrected, absently. "The point is that Sam is staging a coup and I really could use Jake here. Embry went and ran his mouth—I don't think he could be disloyal to Jacob, even if he tried, but he just made things worse. And then...I may have...accidentally attacked Jared. So the whole situation isn't really the greatest, right now."

"Can Sam even be in charge? Tradition says Jacob's Chief."

"Not if he's not here for a fucking leech wedding."

I tried not to cringe. I was fifteen—I could handle it. I just had to figure out what she wanted. "You want Jacob to come home and...talk Sam out of this?"

"I know that's not possible. I just want some other ideas, because I can't think of any myself."

As Jacob stood in front of me, twitching in the semi-darkness, I knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to obey the instincts of his body, the adrenaline screaming at him to take action. He wanted to tear Sam apart.

But I needed him to stay here.

"What about Seth? Can't he...at least until Jacob gets back. Or something."

Leah snorted. "I love the kid, I really do. But there's no way he could do this. He wouldn't want to hurt Sam."

"Are you sure, Leah?"

"Okay, he might be able to do it. Sam's probably the same size as him now, maybe even a little smaller and he can be surprisingly brutal when he has to. But he...he's working now and—who knows if Jake's even going to stay once you—and that would make Seth Alpha forever and I—I don't want Seth to have to do—he's my brother, Nessie. And he'd be a shit Alpha."

It wasn't her explanation that got to me, though she was right that Seth would never be a great leader, to unwilling to hurt anyone to make hard decisions. It was the way she softly said brother. I had just met the hybrids and I could not imagine hurting them. How much worse would it be for Leah? I couldn't do that to her, or to Seth. Especially when Jacob's dark eyes were begging me to let him do something else. "Right. Okay. How long do you think you could hold them off? Because it's going to take at least eight hours to get Jacob back."

"What?" Jacob gasped. Ignoring the hopeful, surprised sound, I listened as Leah talked aloud. "If we can ask them to stall until Seth gets off for work, and then ask them to schedule it for the morning...of course, Seth would have to come late and there might have to be a fight, but Quil's looking for some payback after what Paul did to Embry...I can get you almost twelve. Maybe more."

"That should be good. Good luck."

"Thanks. Nessie?" My finger froze on the disconnect button. "Thank you."

"Thank you," Jacob repeated, after she hung up. "You don't have to do this. I can stay. I don't want to leave, if you need me. Do you need me?"

It was a simple question. I hated that he had to ask it. Because he would stay if I answered honestly, simply because he wanted to make me happy in whatever way he could. All I had to do was speak the truth, and Jacob would not go. Now why would I do that?

"Of course not. Emmett will take you back; he's been dying to use his pilot's license—he hated that we decided to drive up. He'll find a private plane somewhere; I think Kate owns one, actually...and we can afford it. It's easy Jacob. You might even get a chance to rest before you have to try and kill Sam. Don't worry about it. I'm going to stay with my friends. They will take care of me."

"I'm sure they will." Jacob hesitated for second. A long second, but no more than that. "Thanks, Nessie," he said as he hugged me. "You're the best."

The two of us walked back into the room and with another apology, I left the hybrids to find my family. They were always inclined to attempt my schemes and this time was no different. If my uncle flew straight, he would get back in time for the nuptials the next day. An adventure, something he would enjoy.

And then Rosalie put her hand on my shoulder and said, "It's rude to keep your guests waiting. We'll take care of the mutt."

Jacob glared, but I just kissed her cheek and rushed back. The other four half-vampires were waiting just where I had left them, still in their winter clothing.

"I'm sorry," I hurried to explain. "I didn't mean to be rude. There was just a situation and it—"

"Stop," Elmira commanded. "There's no need to explain."

"We have waited a long time to meet you," Sakhet said. "We have learned patience."

Their stoic reassurances were ruined by Shelia, who grabbed her stomach and complained, loudly, "I hungry. Eat."

Elmira said: "I thought you wanted to meet Nessie, sister. Talk to her first. Then you may eat, if you ask properly."

"I require nourishment. Let us find some," Shelia snapped back. Then she grinned at me, reaching out a spindled hand. "Nessie want hunt, hunt together? In the snow and ice, run and catch. I smell blood when we come, extra warm in the cold. Drink together?"

"Or perhaps she would like a snack, one that would allow us to take the edge off?" Sakhet offered.

But I was looking into Shelia's warm eyes and suddenly my mouth was watering. "We could go hunting," I allowed.

"There's nothing like a good hunt to get us all acquainted," Nahuel reminded the women. "The two of us are going. Are the three of you coming or not?"

That wasn't quite how I wanted this interview to go, but Elmira finally smiled, and if Sakhet didn't, she rose to her feet first.

"We hunt, then. Shall we?"

We moved to the front door, five hybrids, not quite a unit just yet, but wanting to be. It was snowing and I could hear a car pulling away, Emmett taking Jacob to the airport. That didn't matter. All that mattered was the four people standing beside me. Shelia grinned and spun around in the snow once, twice, tasting the flakes on her tongue, before taking off into the night.

"Catch me!" she cried.

Elmira and Sakhet were right on her heels. Nahuel offered me his hand and I took it, before we followed his sisters into the Arctic night.

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TBC...


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: The chapters were getting far too long...so despite how I want to hurry the return of the werewolves, we're just going to have to put up with the half-vamps for longer than I thought. I think I'm going to be able to post the second half tomorrow, so if I don't get back to you quickly, that's why.

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Chapter 27

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There was a snowstorm, but it didn't slow us down any as we ran so fast we appeared to be flying over the snow. Hundreds of years had taught the women how to move as gracefully as the full-blooded vampires and I watched with envy as they danced across the icy plain. Not too much, though; I could not feel the cold with Nahuel's hand in mine and jealousy was hard to summon when one was as happy as I was.

Shelia was leading us this way and that, more interested in destroying snow banks and tasting snowflakes than finding us a meal. I giggled at the picture she made, kicking around in the snow, but that didn't stop me from coming along when she grabbed my arm, twirling me until I was quite dizzy. Nahuel easily caught me, surrounding me with his arms. I tried to fight the blush that was threatening to spread across my cheeks as he leaned down to whisper:

"Are you all right?"

Shelia saved me from answering—as if I could with his warm breath against my ear, forcing me to shiver. She made a noise and then darted off faster than before.

"Dinner," Elmira translated.

We all chased after her, though I did admit, "I don't smell anything."

"It is faint, from the east," Sakhet informed me. "It takes time to learn how to filter properly. You will have to trust us for now."

I inhaled deeply, letting the cold north wind fill my nostrils. There _was_ the faint hint of blood on the breeze, but I could barely distinguish it in the cold. If I hadn't known what to look for, I would have missed it entirely. Clearly, I needed more practice hunting.

Not too much, though. I took down the polar bear with some semblance of skill, the warm blood filling my mouth, a nice treat on a cold day. A tiny bit of blood dribbled onto my chin, but long fingers caught it quickly.

"No waste," Shelia said, licking her finger. "Not in desert. Not much blood. You like here, in ice?"

"Not very much at all," I admitted. "Too cold."

"Burr," she agreed, creeping closer, to preserve body heart. "Indoors we stay or freeze. So sad. But play games. You promise to show poker. Yes?"

"I did promise. And you promised to show me your drawings?"

"Yes, yes. After poker."

As near as she was, it was easy to forget the disproportion. Up close, Shelia was beautiful, with eyes almost as dark as my Jacob's, though hers were prettier. There was no careful guard in her eyes as she studied me, just pure pleasure at being in my company. Without thought, she put her head on my shoulder, snuggling close to my neck.

"Pretty," she said as she fingered my hair. So entranced was she, that I don't think she realized she was putting it to her lips. "Like blood."

It wasn't the cold that made me shiver. I think I preferred even Mother's bronze to Shelia's blood as a descriptor. "Do you want to go back?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Nahuel interrupted. "It's hard to talk in the middle of a blizzard."

"Baby," Shelia whispered in my ear and then abruptly pulled away. As I giggled, she hoisted me to my feet. "Run now?"

I was already running, but I was laughing so much that she overtook me easily. Even with her longer legs, she didn't pass me. The five of us reached the house in unison.

As the quasi-hostess, I led the way to the closet. I was a little distracted by the way Nahuel's dark blue sweater clung to his chest, but was too busy juggling the heavy fur coats the women wore to make too much of a fool of myself. I hoped.

Turning around, I led the way back into the living room. In an attempt to keep my eyes off Nahuel—who hadn't stopped looking at me since he arrived—I studied the women's clothing. I confess I was a little surprised at Elmira's attire. She was the prettiest, if only because she was the most conscious of her looks. Yet though her outfit was expensive looking, it was only partially fitted to her form and completely covered her from neck to toe. As her sisters started stripping off more clothes, Elmira remained firmly overdressed. Perhaps it was some sort of cultural compulsion.

Shelia had clearly been influenced by her upbringing, ending up in only a simple cotton shift, sweaters and pants scattered around her. It seemed to me that this she only kept on for the sake of her sisters, for she scratched at it continuously.

Meanwhile, Sakhet peeled off her sweater and made me reconsider Elmira's motivations for staying covered. Down the eldest woman's arm, raised welts stood out horrifically against her dark sin. She caught me staring and only said, "The world has not always been as easy as it is at present. More can hurt us and we heal slower than true bloods."

"I do that one," Shelia informed me, her tone apologetic. She came over and ran her fingers along Sakhet's forearm, where she had apparently tried to chew it off.

"I got you back."

Shelia nodded and then pushed her dress off her shoulders and down to her waist. I blinked, more surprise than anything at seeing her bare breasts. Only Nahuel acknowledged my discomfort, rolling his eyes at his sister's inhibited nature. Shelia was already pushing aside her left breast, to give me a clear view of the scar that ran all the way down her side.

"Ribs go through skin," she admitted proudly. "I want to scream but can't and yet I no stop fighting."

"Fortunately, her body was smarter than she was," Sakhet said, "And she passed out from the pain soon after."

Nahuel led me beside him on the couch. "And while you may think this is morbid, I've never seen them so cheerful."

"We always cheerful," Shelia muttered, while Elmira turned attention back to me. "Shelia told us that you were quite unique in some ways."

"Many ways," Nahuel contributed.

And I had been foolish enough to think that my problems with vasodilatation were in the past. Still, I managed to understand what Elmira had hinted at. "If we could all hold hands, I could show you, if you wanted. I could show you whatever you'd like."

"We would enjoy that," Sakhet said, taking the hands of her sisters. Shelia was on my right, Nahuel on my left. His hand was not like Jacob's, or any of the werewolves, for that matter. It was not some gigantic paw though the strength contained in it was unmistakable. It fit against mine almost perfectly, but I tried concentrating on the memories I wanted to show them instead.

Transmitting my memories through people was a new quirk in my power that I had recently become aware of, mostly by accidently. Unfortunately, I was still restricted to skin contact. What good was a power if you had to be touching someone to use it?

This wasn't the time to worry about my utter uselessness. It was rare that I used my more unusual ability and I had to concentrate. As a child, I transmitted my own feelings along with my memories. It was bad enough that Father could read my mind, that Jasper could feel my emotions, that Alice could see my future, that Rosalie knew everything about me anyway...I wasn't about to broadcast the little that was left if I didn't have to. I had grown out of the habit of communicating skin to skin. Besides, Leah couldn't stand it when I used my power. I used to think it was because she didn't like it when I touched her, but it was probably because it was very hard to hate someone when they were that open with their feelings. She had tried, at least, to hate me when I was a child...even if she was now my closest friend, I was sure I had been right about that when I was younger.

But today wasn't about Leah. Today was about my new friends, showing them my life. When I went over the arrival of the Volturi in Forks, Elmira stiffened, but she stayed in the circle. Nahuel let out a hiss of pain, as her nails dug into his palm, but their hands remained attached. Turning to happier matters, I showed them my family in various activities—it was Sakhet's turn to look uncomfortable, watching my parents play with me. When Shelia lightly squeezed my hand, I turned to different matters.

I started showing them the werewolves. It turned out to be my dumbest idea yet.

"You said the Alpha was bound to you somehow?" Elmira questioned. I briefly showed them a few clips explaining imprinting to them. It was Nahuel who focused on a particular memory.

"You're under no obligation to return his adoration?"

"I was selected because I would return it."

Elmira interrupted—thankfully, because he had not quite believed me and I wasn't sure if I believed it enough myself to convince him that it was true. "Show us the other Alpha again."

"Sam? Why?" Child I might be, but I understood her look well enough. "He's married."

"That stops fewer men than you would think."

"The process would," Sakhet murmured. "Imprinting. I have never heard of the Children of the Moon having such a condition. It must be old magic, native to this land. I do not think you could overcome such power, sister, even with your trickery."

"The second, then. The one who has no prior obligation."

"Leah won't let you within a hundred feet of Seth," I said flatly. "There's no point in wasting your time."

"She is but a child. She would not hinder me."

"I doubt that."

"We shall see."

Shelia's voice turned my eyes from her sister; reluctantly, because I did not think Elmira had given up even though she was going to La Push over my dead body.

"Wrong, I think," Shelia said, eyes closed, mind still on the memories I had shown her. "Canis lupus...strong hierarchy. They not break easily. He listen to her, not you." Her eyes opened and she smiled at Elmira. "You would not like them anyway, sister. Their strength is in the transformation—they may be superior humans but they are still inferior to us. Leave them be."

I had gotten into the habit of mentally adjusting her speech and it took me a moment to hear the words as they actually came out of her mouth. Her hand was applying pressure on mine, telling me to hold my tongue. Whether Shelia believed what she had said—I really hoped she hadn't—her lecture had brought the first flicker of doubt onto Elmira's face. It was working.

Elmira finally sighed. "Why couldn't you have been a boy?"

Nahuel defended me, even though I was not offended. Two hundred and eighty-one years was a long time to be alone. As long as she stayed away from the werewolves, I would stay sympathetic.

"Have you met the real Children of the Moon?" I had promised the pack I would ask, and this seemed like an appropriate moment. "What are they like?"

The younger two turned to the eldest—and Elmira started giggling like the eighteen year old she looked. Even Sakhet smiled at her memories, before nudging her sister gently, to tell her to hush.

"They are faster than your wolves, faster than any creature I have ever seen," she allowed. Leah wasn't going to be happy about that. "Not as strong as us, or the true bloods, or even your wolves when transformed, but they are just as strong in either form. They are smaller than your wolves as well. They can pass for large canis lupus, when they have to, though they are far too skittish around human beings to keep the deception up for long. They rarely possess the control to create larger packs and are, therefore, rarely dangerous."

"There are exceptions, however," Elmira said sweetly.

Sakhet looked less amused. "Some."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Considering our father's nature, one would think the Dead Sea would be a haven for us," Elmira showed off gleaming teeth. "They forced her into the water and she sank like a brick. You should have seen her when they had to drag her out. Poor little drowned kitty."

"I had not learned to swim," Sakhet said stiffly. "I did not think we would be that heavy."

"They saved you?" I asked.

"Yes. They were trying to prove a point...except for the three days around the full moon they are normal humans and I...underestimated them. They made sure my family had a perfect view of my humiliation the whole time."

"They were very sweet young men when they were in control of themselves," Elmira agreed, looking almost wistful. "We spent a very nice year with them before they left."

"Joham was coming back from the Americas and there were rumors from Europe..."

"The Voturi are coming, the Volturi are coming..." Elmira did not try to hide the bitterness. "They are probably dead, now."

Shelia stretched out her body and laid her head in Sakhet's lap. "Tell happy stories," she demanded. "Nessie want happy."

They obliged her.

There were a lot of stories and sometimes I found myself shaking my head in both amazement and disbelief. Could you really meet such an assortment of people? They spoke of playing bridge with royalty, hunting creatures that no longer existed, seducing sultans (and, Elmira claimed, Giacomo Casanova himself), traveling to the end of the world when no one was even sure there was one, fighting pirates with actual rotting teeth, evading slave traders and inspiring artists the world over. It sounded too fanciful to be believed...and yet I think I did.

My family wandered in and out of the room as the two eldest talked. Rosalie refused to believe they spoke the truth, but she had to drag Emmett from the room. Father and Mother listened attentively and I don't think Father picked up a lie in their minds. The only time his expression was not captivated was when Carlisle asked after their experiences in the country of his birth.

"I've never been," Elmira said demurely. Sakhet said nothing at all, but Father winced and motioned for Carlisle to let the subject drop.

The adults eventually left us utterly alone and the conversation became more playful. Shelia insisted on bringing out the cards. Whatever the others were to me, or could be, Shelia's place in my life was certain. She was my friend.

Poker entranced her and she found me endlessly fascinating, but I could return the compliment. Sakhet had brought a sketchpad for her sister and they ordered me to sit and using the ashes from the fireplace she drew me. All of us could easily translate what we saw to paper, but Shelia did not see things the way we did. In her vision, I was transcendent. When I tried to compliment her, she laughed and drew charcoal whiskers on my face.

Tilting her head, she studied my face and frowned. "Dorum drru," she smiled and rubbed my face clean. Then she proceeded to envelope my hand with her spider-like fingers and pulled me around the room—she was worse than the werewolves, hating the stillness. Perhaps that's why I liked her best.

Even better than Nahuel, though it was a close competition. It was simpler to talk to him—Shelia regarded language as something she used only to humor Sakhet—but he made me feel just as welcome. More welcome. And far different than I had ever felt before.

Too soon, Sakhet rose from the floor. "It is getting late. We should retire."

"But it's only midnight," I protested and Shelia curled around me and begged, "Stay with Nessie."

"To bed," her sister repeated. "I apologize, but it is our routine. It is late and we must sleep."

"Come, habibati," Elmira beckoned. "You will see her tomorrow."

"But not day after."

Seeing that Shelia really did seem determined to stay, Sakhet allowed, "Perhaps we could see about extending our stay, if you behave."

"I can behave perfectly," Shelia announced. "I will be better than you could ever imagine me being. Could we really stay longer?"

"I will speak to her parents, sister. It would please us all and they seem inclined to allow it. Are you coming, Nahuel?"

"No, thank you," he said, leaning back into the couch.

She watched him for a moment, but no more, as Elmira snarled behind her. "Good night, then. Come, Shelia."

"Do I have to talk perfectly around you?" Shelia whispered into my ear as she hugged me.

"Never," I whispered back and she giggled and left without incident.

And then I was alone with Nahuel.

I settled back on the couch beside him. He shifted to get more comfortable and somehow ended up much closer than before. Even though he was also a fascinating conversationalist, I had a hard time paying attention.

We talked of nothing of significant. World politics, the ever-so-slowly-recovering economy...things that might have been important to the survival of the human race, but I was too busy enjoying the way his hand felt against mine, as he gently brushed his thumb over my knuckles, to care.

"It would be a shame," Nahuel said slowly, in a voice that made me very thankful that I was already sitting, "To continue to speak as infrequently as we have in the past."

"I agree," I said far too eagerly. What did I care? There was no sense in pretending I didn't think he was captivating. "Do you have a computer?"

Nahuel smirked. "My aunt unfortunately does not believe me when I say there are no demons inside them. I cannot get her to give up her superstitions. You are lucky your parents are so modern."

Father had warned me Nahuel was rather jealous of my mother, of the love she had for me, so it didn't throw me.

"I'm lucky in many ways."

"I could think of no one more deserving," he said, tucking my hair behind my ear. I was bright red as he smiled down at me. My heart started beating wildly as he ducked his head and—

"It's three o'clock in the morning," Rosalie announced from the doorway.

"So?"

"Both of you look tired. You wouldn't want to ruin Kate's wedding, would you?"

"Like you care," I muttered.

"Now, Renesmee," she said, knowing how the unused name grated.

"Fine." I turned to say goodnight to Nahuel, but once I was facing him all my plans disappeared. What was I supposed to do? "Good night."

"Good night," he said and then wrapped his arms around me. It was far, far different from hugging Shelia. He was shorter and broader, but it wasn't just the physical differences between brother and sister that had my heart hammering—loudly enough for everyone to hear, I was sure. Forcing myself to ignore my embarrassment, and to remember to breathe, I hugged him back until Rosalie cleared her throat from the doorway.

"Good night," I called as I went to follow her. I couldn't stop the goofy smile from spreading over my face, but he looked pleased as well, and his eyes stayed locked on mine until Rosalie forcibly pulled me from the room.

She met my glare with one of her own, and Rosalie was better than even Leah at such things. I could never hope to compete, even though she deserved _something_ for interrupting the way she had.

"When you're older," she sighed. I just rolled my eyes.

"Fifteen is old."

"Five," she snapped, for the first time adopting Jacob's system of counting. It was the first time they had remotely agreed and I sighed—of course they would agree when it came to ruining my life.

I thought it would be impossible for me to sleep that night. I was far too excited...but I suppose I was exhausted as well. Sleep came quickly and I had beautiful dreams.

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TBC...


	28. Chapter 28

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Chapter 28

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No one was worried that something would go wrong with the wedding. Alice was planning it—it would go perfectly. What I was worried about was the situation in La Push, and when morning came and no one had heard from Jacob, I tried calling.

I called every werewolf whose number Jacob had made me memorize. No one was home, not even the Uleys, and the few who had cellphones didn't answer. I could just imagine the battle. I left a message on the Clearwaters' machine, warning them all to stay safe or risk my displeasure.

Then I hung up to find Shelia on my bed.

I yelped. I didn't mean to, but I hadn't even heard her come in. She just giggled and lay down beside me.

"Wolf no call back?" she asked.

"No. I'm getting worried."

"Fight no last long. Never. If fight, get news. No news mean no fight. Better."

"Maybe," I allowed. It was late morning and I think Shelia was right. Jacob would have had time to fight Sam and win before now. If they were just sitting around discussing the situation, he wouldn't have anything to tell me. "I don't even know if I want him to fight."

"That what he do, you say."

"He won't get hurt," I said. "He'll win. That's the trouble. I don't know if I want him to. At least this way he'd leave them the way he should, defeated by another Alpha. If he wins now and leaves later...he'll be running away with his tail between his legs."

"They think, he think or you think?"

"We think, I think," and I couldn't help the giggle at how easily she made me incomprehensible. "Everyone will hate him for leaving, later. Even me, and especially himself. But he'll have to. I can't—I can't stay there, Shelia. Not forever."

"No stay where no happy," her voice got insistent, eyes burning into mine. "Never stay. When you unhappy, sister, never stay. Never let...they let me runaway sometimes. Sometimes it is good to leave, for a little while, to remind yourself you want to come back. Or to realize you would rather die than return."

Was this what my brief separation from Jacob was supposed to teach me? Did I want him with me or not? The answer was so obvious, there was no need for a question. I wanted Jacob with me. Always. I let Shelia wrap her long arms around me and hoped I would not hurt too many people.

There was a knock on the door and Mother came in, beautiful as always. She was smiling; before she spoke, I knew, but I let her tell me anyway. "The Denalis have offered to let us all stay for another week."

Shelia clapped her hands excitedly as I giggled and then hugged her. "Go look pretty," she sighed as she pulled away. "See you all week."

"Let's get you ready," Mother said, offering me a hand out of bed. Mostly, she just watched as I got ready, studying me, carefully waiting for the opportune moment to speak to me. Since I was hoping rather desperately she wasn't going to say anything, there was no moment. She just blurted it out, eventually.

"You seem to be getting along well with the other hybrids."

"I hope I am."

"Nahuel seems very nice."

"They all seem nice. The older two are a little...intense, sometimes, but I think they're all rather sweet people."

"How sweet?"

I couldn't stop myself from snorting. "Mother...I do not understand how you could have fooled Jacob, even for an instant. You are so obvious."

"Hormones," Rosalie said as she came into the room. Sneering, she informed me, "Dogs can't help themselves. Anyway, Emmett just got back—Fido arrived home safe and sound." Taking the brush from my mother's hand, she announced, "You're doing it all wrong, Bella."

"It's fine," I dismissed, standing up, stopping the fight before it could start. "Let's go. And I promise not be alone with Nahuel, all right?"

"You don't have—"

"Fine," Rosalie agreed. "Shall we?"

Mother scowled but led us to the ceremony, whispering almost silently in my ear, "You don't have to promise anything."

I thought about the braided Quileute promise ring I kept in my room. It was impossible for me to make everyone happy; I had not inherited that talent from my mother. My father wrapped his arms around my shoulders and I leaned into him as the wedding march began to play. Kate rather scandalously sashayed down the aisle, towards her groom who looked dashing even with the outdated tricorne on his head. Kate arched a brow, but Garrett took the challenge eagerly, as he always did, taking her hand and kissing it before leading her to the minister.

A human had come from town to oversee the ceremony and he spent most of the time terrified for his life and the rest of it telling himself he was being silly, that he was perfectly safe. Human instincts were a lot smarter than human brains, it seemed, especially around us. But he said his part without shaking too badly, and announced: "You may kiss the bride."

I had spent most of the wedding watching Shelia fail to sit still, so as to avoid Nahuel's searching eyes, but this part of the ceremony demanded my attention. With old-fashioned flourish, Garret wrapped his arms around Kate and dipped her, right in front of all of us, for a highly inappropriate, embarrassingly to witness, absolutely perfect wedding kiss. I may have been blushing, but I still knew it was with that kind of enthusiasm a pair of newlyweds should kiss. Then I averted my eyes and tried to divert my thoughts, because my father was always present.

Kate stood up and couldn't quite keep the smile off her face as she allowed, "That's one way to start."

There was a rush of congratulations for the pair and we headed into the dining room. Since we didn't need to eat, everyone would probably just sit around talking and dancing for the rest of the day. That didn't bother me as much as it normally would, because it turned out Nahuel was an excellent dancer.

I wasn't terrible myself, having been taught by Alice. It was strange not having to crane my head up to look at my partner, but somehow I didn't mind, as I twirled around the room in Nahuel's arms.

"I'm glad you are going to stay," I admitted, as the fingers on my waist seemed to burn through my dress.

"I would have stayed regardless," he promised. "I don't travel with them. We tend not to...prefer each other's company. We don't forget, you see." He chuckled unhappily, so I squeezed his hand in reassurance and that seemed to help him relax. It also encouraged him to pull me closer, but I wasn't complaining. It was...nice, feeling his body pressed against mine.

"Nessie, come, come," Shelia squealed coming up to us, interrupting without thought. "Tanya say get you. Phone. Wolf call."

Muttering an apology, I almost sprinted after her, as she led the way to the Denali's kitchen. I practically snatched the phone from Tanya, so eager was I to hear from the werewolves.

"Jacob?"

"Not quite." Quil or Embry, then. "Hey, kid. Jake's a bit busy at the moment. But he wanted to let you know that he got here okay and that he hasn't screwed everything up just yet."

"That's...good news?"

"Yup. We even got Leah to stop her bitching for half a second." Embry, then, for Quil would have been less upfront about insulting her.

"I heard you made things worse. And got attacked by Paul."

"That's because I forgot that one the two things on the planet smaller than Paul's tiny, tiny brain is the size of his patience. Not that I care he broke my leg, 'specially not since Quil broke his in retaliation. Rachel got so pissed that she—"

"Focus, Embry," I chided gently.

"Right. Anyway, Jake's mostly managed to calm everyone down, Jared's shoulder is mostly healed and everything should be good in a few days. Leah said she'd call you as soon as we're a hundred percent sure and..." Embry dropped his voice, laughing slightly, "As soon as Jake thinks it's safe to let her out of his sight. We can't have her attacking the other side again. It wouldn't look good, even if they asked for it."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, kid," he hesitated, then manned up and said, "And congratulate the bride and groom for us."

"I will. You're a good friend, you know, Embry. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah..." but he sounded pleased. "Bye."

"Goodbye."

I relayed the werewolves' gratitude and well wishes to the people who were interested in hearing them. Nahuel caught my eye and motioned me back to the dance floor, but before I could rejoin him, Sakhet spoke up. Her arguments about the benefits of a pack somehow swayed my parents (or maybe it was the fact she had given birth to a child that was older than they were) and suddenly they were kissing me on the cheek and warning me to be careful on the hunt.

Hunting or dancing? What kind of vampire would I be if I didn't pick the former?

Nahuel looked disappointed, but not too badly as we joined his sisters outside. Once again, Shelia took the lead, Sakhet and Elmira following, Nahuel keeping me company at the rear. We spoke of other hunting trips—he had been to the very tip of Chile for penguins, once—as we raced along the frozen track.

We ran for a long time, across the snow, simply enjoying being together. We were far from the Denali home before Shelia found something and rushed off into the darkness.

We adjusted course and doubled our pace. With food so close, the other three were going flat out and putting distance between us. Still, scents traveled. I may not have been an expert hunter but eventually I could identify the smell.

No. They couldn't be—they wouldn't—could I take that chance?

"Stop!" I was screaming against the wind, but they were special. They had to hear. "Please, stop. Stop!"

"What's wrong?" Nahuel asked as we all slowed and came to a halt.

I tried to catch my breath, to force the words from my throat past the large lump that had seemed to form there. I couldn't because their strides had been sure. They knew what they were heading towards. All I could do was force the tears out, as I finally comprehended why everyone had waited so long before saying I could meet the hybrids.

Those were people out there and they were just going to...no.

Shelia came up to me, curious as always. "Why Nessie cry?"

"Please don't kill them," I begged.

"What a fastidious eater," Elmira muttered as Shelia cocked her head to the side: "Human healthy. Best. Make strong. Why not eat?"

Her tone was not maliciously, just curious and it stopped my heart from breaking entirely into two. She didn't know better and I could cling to that. "You can't kill people," I hurried to explain. "We aren't killers. We—"

"We eat what we were made to eat," Elmira declared. "Nothing more or less. That is all everything on this planet does, aside from your precious humans."

"We won't if you don't want us to," Nahuel said. "We can leave the humans be tonight."

"Tonight?" I didn't mean to shriek—or maybe I did. Anything to get them to listen. "What about tomorrow? What kind of monsters are you? How could you lie to us and pretend—"

"No lies. No pretend." Sakhet's grey eyes seemed almost sympathetic. "We are what we were born to be. We have deceived no one. They said not to kill within their boundaries. We have respected their laws."

"That's not enough," I cried. Just because it hadn't happened close by, didn't mean it wasn't our fault. Just like when the Volturi came—but I crushed down that thought. "You can't kill people!"

"No eat human?" Shelia was tentative, trying to distract me in her own way. "I find different. We hunt seal. Cold. Big. Fun."

"I don't think Nessie is up to hunting tonight. Go without us. I will bring her home," Sakhet decided.

"No come with?" Shelia asked, worried.

"You wanted to kill them," I miserably explained to uncomprehending eyes.

Elmira did not like that. "Do you really think we are the only killers here?" she spat. "My family only kills for survival, precisely, when we mean to. Can your family say the same? We honor the lives we take with our lives. Your indifferent does not make you better, it just allows you to pretend."

Shelia growled at her sister, loudly, demanding: "No speak."

But Elmira took no notice, glaring defiantly at me. Why should she be embarrassed? It was only the truth, after all. Sakhet sighed and then ordered: "All of you—go. Now. You are just making this worse."

"You do not command me," Nahuel snapped, taking a step towards me. I backed off instinctively. The older two had always scared me, even when I had tricked myself into loving them. Finding out they were monsters did not hurt me as badly. I did not want him near me. Not when I thought—I was such a fool it was hard to believe!

"Go," she ordered again.

"Come, Nahuel," Elmira jeered. "You have had enough time with the child." She could not resist one last taunt, "I would have had her by now."

"Of course you would have, whore."

They weren't full-blooded vampires, but even so I did not see Sakhet move. I only knew that one instant she was beside me and the next her arms were around Shelia, Shelia who looked every inch a feral creature, screaming and clawing at the air in a desperate attempt to reach her brother. Elmira said nothing, simply stilled in front of him, radiating hate, before turning on her heel and walking away.

Sakhet released Shelia into the snow, with a sharp order: "Go after her. Keep her safe." A foot on her back kept Shelia down, as she lay panting on the ground for a moment, her eyes finding mine. She still did not understand, but she had more pressing concerns at the moment—when Sakhet release her, Shelia took off after her sister.

Nahuel was shorter than Sakhet, but not significantly so. Yet there was no doubt in my mind about who was in charge. "You will never speak to her so disrespectfully again or I will remove your tongue with my hands," she warned him. "I am my father's daughter enough for that. Now go."

And he went.

She was still fuming, as she turned to me, though she tried to make her voice gentle. "Do not dwell on it. What you feel now...wait a moment, before you speak."

"They didn't meant to and they're sorry now," I muttered. "They're sorry."

"Perhaps," she allowed. "Wait. We will go back and you will feel better."

"No. They're sorry." I found anger somewhere inside of me and I clung to that because it was better than feeling so hopelessly numb. "They're sorry. They've changed! They're far sorrier than you could ever be."

It was the wrong thing to say, not when Nahuel had already antagonized her, somehow. She terrified me, as she turned to face me.

"Is that right?"

"Yes."

Sakhet laughed, but it only made me shiver harder.

"What do you know about being sorry? What do they? What have they given to show their remorse? For the murder of my mother, I gave up the chance to know even her name. For turning my back on my people, I gave up everything they could teach me about myself. For destroying the lives of others...I watched a continent burn, until one day my people faded from living memory and there was no home left to me, anywhere. For growing careless, for letting my lover die, I had to give my child. And when I tried to replace my boy, my beautiful boy..." her voice broke and that was somehow worse than her fury had been, as the tears welled and would not fall... "the universe demanded payment once again and took my father. That was how sorry I was. How sorry is your family?"

There was no sympathy for me—she had none left within her to give. "I know of atonement as you do not; I know it so well I know it will never be enough, no matter how much I bleed. We are condemned. I am not the one who is pretending otherwise."

Atonement? Hadn't Jacob once said that? Hadn't Leah once laughed? Of course she would. How could you possibly say my family was atoning with a straight face?

I started to cry and Sakhet remembered herself.

"Come, girl," she said softly. "It is cold out and your feelings will pass."

I did not believe her, though I took her hand. Preventing the memories from crushing me was taking too much effort for me to fight her as well. _Father and Aunt Rosalie only killed bad people. Everyone else it was just an accident._ I flinched at the words, words delivered in a high and mighty tone to werewolves who did not accept them. Who said motives didn't matter when there was a dead body on the ground.

What did motives matter when my family hadn't even noticed the corpses in their wake? The bodies they had killed...the bodies that marked them as guilty. My whole family was all guilty—and they didn't care.

Worse than that, they pretended they did. They pretended they were good people, as if good people actually sat around and did nothing. As if good people lost control and killed when they did not want to—it had taken me this long to understand why Jasper sometimes let unhappiness seep into our perfect world. He knew, like Elmira knew, like Leah knew, like Jacob pretended not to know, that my family was guilty and the guilty should be punished.

So he tried to make himself suffer, though it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. But why hadn't the others even bothered to try?

All Alice did was shop, or make a fortune for my family on the stock market. All Rosalie did was braid my hair or have sex with Emmett. Emmett wrestled with her and Jasper and the animals that damned him. Mother and Father stared at each other—did they even know there was a world outside of us? There were two medical degrees on my father's wall; one on Rosalie's. Degrees gotten for vanity's sake, and Carlisle's, not to help people, never for that. At least there was Carlisle and Esme. They tried to—

I almost choked. When it came down to it, the mess was Carlisle's fault. All the people he saved—it didn't make up for the lives the monsters he created took. Death did not work that way. It wasn't a life for a life. Not when he kept doing it...not when he let Father kill—

He loved Mother more than anything and still he had killed her. No, he had changed her, after I killed her. No wonder they loved me so well. My very first act had made me a monster just like them.

So I let Sakhet led me back to where I belonged.

Back amongst the murderers.

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TBC...


	29. Chapter 29

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Chapter 29

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Father had gone out hunting with Eleazar, Jasper and Emmett. I'm not sure what would have happened if Father had stayed in, but he hadn't. When Sakhet and I arrived back at the Denali home, I was alone with my thoughts. I pleaded exhaustion and no one was the wiser (Rosalie was a little suspicious, but Mother just kissed me goodnight and my aunt didn't dare protest). Sakhet said nothing to me, as she deposited in my room. It was almost enough to make me grateful. Only I couldn't really muster any feeling from underneath the guilt.

It ran through my head, over and over again, like a bad song I would have gladly screamed my throat raw to drown out. Only I couldn't stop the list of crimes from trumpeting through, from demanding attention. Every tiny shrug now seemed malevolent, every moment of bliss cheapened. What had they done?

And worse, the drum beat underneath it all that made everything doubly painful, what had I done?

I cried on my bed, curled in a ball. Sakhet was partially right. It took time, but eventually I could recall some pet projects, some moments of decency, some tiny little actions that somehow took the sting out knowing about the past.

My family may have been vampires, but they were not monsters. They _were_ sorry. They were not indifferent, no matter what Elmira might say. Maybe they had not suffered, the way others had suffered, but their lives were not as idyllic as they seemed. Outsiders might not appreciate it, but I did. I was their child. They loved me. They were good people...maybe.

Even if Mother was the only one who had never killed anyone.

"Why Nessie cry?"

I jumped and almost fell off the bed. Shelia quickly grabbed me, before I could topple. Pulling away from her searching hand, I asked:

"How did you get in? Is my father here?"

"No." She sat down on the bed beside me, staring. "Why? He do wrong?"

I shook my head. It was not _his _fault. He would have found a way to save her, if given more time.

Shelia crossed her legs and studied me. "I do wrong?"

"You don't know any better."

"I know I was sick, sister, sicker than you can imagine, here in this modern home, surrounded by people who love you. I know I was very sick and that human blood restored me when nothing else would. I know I would not have recovered if my sisters had not helped me. And I know, very well, how hard it is to change when you have only known a completely different world. I am sorry you are sad and yet...you should not hate us, I think. We could be...different, if we had an incentive."

She took my hand and I let her. I had to admit, "I think I knew. I remember Huilen's red eyes so vividly. And yet...I couldn't handle it, so I didn't let myself think about it. Elmira was right, in a way. You honor your dead and we don't. By feeling guilty—" I insisted on the phrase, though how much I believed it I wasn't sure "—they don't truly appreciate the lives they have sacrificed. It's almost funny."

"Elmira no speak. No right hurt Nessie with truth." Shelia sighed. "She be sorry, later. Sometimes she get angry too quickly for good."

"You got angry pretty fast at Nahuel," I observed.

Shelia snarled, and her body coiled, as if she wished to spring. "He not say that. No right. He never there. He no know."

"What doesn't he know?"

"She his favorite," Shelia said. Her eyes stared straight into me, begging me to understand. "Always Elmira. He never let no one near her. Even Sakhet need stay back. Except when he leave...then she free. She her own. But only when he gone. When he come back...she his favorite. Nahuel not there. Nahuel not know. No right."

"She wouldn't be my favorite," I couldn't help but mutter.

Shelia laughed and placed her head in my lap. "Who your favorite?"

"You, of course."

She had fewer bodies under her feet than Nahuel, because of time, if nothing else—and she had not realized that I was deluding myself. I wondered if the elder two had done it intentionally, had purposely shown me what they were to ruin Nahuel's chances since I didn't seem to be helping theirs, or if they had just been too hungry to care.

Shelia giggled happily. It was so easy to make her happy. "You my favorite, too. Not talk me like I daughter. Sakhet tell me story, once. You listen?"

"I'll listen."

"Proper or not?"

"Is it a long story?"

"Proper, then," she sighed. "Each of us is different, a unique experiment. There were others, between Sakhet and Elmira, but they did not survive under his rule. For Elmira's birth, he decided to try something new. He would monitor the mother, so that the child could be raised from birth."

"I thought you told me Elmira was also raised in the wild."

"Listen," she scolded gently. "So he found a woman, one he could watch. Her name was Yasirah and she was not like the other mothers. She was not a poor, lonely woman he preyed upon. Sakhet said she was...intelligent, well bred and funny, very funny. Sakhet made sure she was well taken care of and sometimes he would visit and she worked her magic on him, too. Sakhet said he loved her, in the end. He told her that after their child was born, he would make sure she joined him, as an immortal.

"But he had never seen firsthand what his children could do when they thought their lives were in danger. He could not save his beloved Yasirah. Elmira his favorite," Shelia told me. "He take baby and leave her in desert. He never want to see her.

"He left her there for seven years and then he had to know. He had to find her. He did not think she would look so much like her mother and he hated her for it and yet he could not let her out of his sight. He made her...everything she do to mother, he do to her. She heal like Yasirah not. So he keep her. She his favorite.

"Nahuel have no right to call her name. No right to call her anything after what she do." Shelia glanced around the empty room and then leaned into whisper, "She say things and he listen, like he listen to mother. She make him think things, leave us alone. He no want keep me, but she go with him and talk long time and he keep me."

"Talk?" I whispered.

Shelia's fingers played with the bedspread. "She like you. Special. Nahuel never know—_he_ never know. She can...when she talk, sometimes, you believe."

"She's a liar," I said sharply, thinking back to how deeply her words had cut, how terrible she had made me feel. "She tells you lies and you—"

"No," Shelia said sharply. "No. Always, she tell you truth. Her truth, but truth. Then you tell lies. You believe or not. It not her. That why it not work on me, or Sakhet. Animal no need to lie to self. Lie lead to die. So she not convince us. But she convince him and she convince Nahuel. She convince you, when you hurt her. Call her monster, like he was."

"Are you sure it doesn't work on you?"

"Sakhet say. Sakhet watch as grow. Sakhet know. When I go away, I never think different than when I home. I not tell you...I not think it work on you."

"Do you really not lie to yourself?" I asked. "Is that even possible?"

"Shame not exist in wild. Few taboo, but not shame. No need to hide. No need feel bad. Nessie?" Shelia sat up and took my hand. "Elmira not make you cry. You make you cry. Why?"

"You once told me Elmira found your mother's skeleton in the desert. How could she possibly identify it?"

Shelia growled in annoyance, but answered. "Animals strip flesh, but bones tell story. Broken spine, pelvic bone destroyed. Still have claw marks on it, tiny baby claw marks. Bite marks on ribs—starving baby need to eat and mother not suckle. Same thing she do to Yasirah."

"Same thing we all do."

"Yes. It make Nessie sad."

"Which is stupid because Father's going to be home soon and he won't tolerate me feeling guilty about this. It was her choice—they told me. But it doesn't matter because I'm the one who broke her."

"Mother very beautiful."

"Very beautiful," I agreed. "She would have been stunning, with a heartbeat."

We sat in silence for a long while, just the two of us, curled together. She patted my hair—color of blood—and I leaned into her shoulder, starring at the wall and trying to force myself to think the way Father wanted. Only it wasn't working.

And then an idea came to me. Wonderfully awful, awfully wonderful—it really didn't matter which. It was only a fitting punishment.

"Shelia? You said you ran away, sometimes." She run away and she had never done anything to deserve the loneliness.

"You want to leave?"

I never would have thought it possible, but my answer was the truth.

"Yes. Please? Help me?"

She didn't even blink. "Okay. No one can find me when I hide. We disappear into desert."

It was so easy for her to agree that I almost laughed. Was I taking advantage of her? What was I doing? I was madder than Shelia sometimes tried to appear. And yet I found myself speaking, against my better judgment:

"We'd have to go now or my father will find out."

"Change into warmer clothing and go now. Yes?"

"Yes," I agreed and headed towards the closet that Alice had packed full of clothing. I was going to run away from home, into the middle of the arctic wilderness. Even as my feet moved me around the room, I could hardly believe what I was doing. It was nonsensical and dangerous and I had never done anything quite like this before. I had never even been unsupervised in my life. I couldn't wander across Alaska with only a still not perfectly well half-vampire...could I?

I wanted to find out.

I needed time to think, to sort out how much had been Elmira and how much had been myself. Did they deserve the blame I still felt tempted to give them? I knew I was guilty, but were they?

Shelia would not pry where I didn't want her to, would not demand explanations I didn't want to give, wouldn't search my mind for answers I wanted to keep to myself. Shelia would leave me alone. Could she abstain from human blood? She would try, I think, for my sake, but could she do it? I would be responsible for anyone she killed. The thought should have terrified me—I found myself excited. No one ever _needed_ me for anything. There was nothing the vampires couldn't do better than me. But Shelia would need me now.

Even more than all that, I could not look at my mother. I was too afraid I would see the corpse I could faintly remember being pulled out of.

So when Shelia slipped out the window, I followed her out into the tundra.

The wilderness was her domain, not mine, and I found myself having to follow her instructions, mostly without question as she insisted on silence. I didn't mind, after a while, and was quite proud of myself when I thought I could discover the reason behind some of her actions. I was pretty sure she made us run with the pack of Caribou to disguise our scent, and not just because she found it delightful.

We ran for almost twenty-four hours before she stopped beside a rock cliff. Father would read Sakhet's mind and guess an approximation of the truth and we had to get as far away as we could. There was a crevice, which she slipped inside, motioning me to follow. "Old home," she whispered. "Abandoned. We stay warm."

I could barely listen, I was too exhausted. I was not used to having so little sleep or this sort of physical activity. I hadn't realized hybrids could be out of shape.

"Look like fish," Shelia told me. "Flop."

"I feel like one. Wake me up in two months."

"They find us by then."

I opened one eye and she burst out laughing, far too amused at her own joke. Too tired to even smile, I let out a weak puff of air to show I also found her funny.

"Nessie?" she asked. "I know vampire—I escape him all time. But I...I no know your wolves. How they track?"

"What?" I demanded, forcing myself to wake up.

"Your wolves. Family send for help. You their...favorite treat. They not let you disappear. What are wolf capable of?"

"I...don't worry about them," I decided suddenly. "Jacob won't hunt me down—he better not, since I don't think he should leave La Push right about now. We just have to get to a phone."

"Phone?" Shelia scowled, but agreed. "I find us people. They have phone. Parents track us there easy. More running."

"The wolves will find us if they look." Jacob wouldn't even have to send the whole pack, just the Clearwaters. Seth to track us, Leah to catch us...and growl at me for the rest of eternity. "I need to convince them not to."

"You rest. Then I rest. Then we find phone," she sighed.

So that's what we did. It was a tiny settlement and we attracted all the attention Shelia had feared we would. Each of us appeared exotic—together we were unforgettable. It was a necessary evil...just as trading one of the fur coats was. We received barely a tenth of its worth, but it was a lot of money, anyway. Enough to pay for a phone call—and no questions.

It rang three times, but then finally a voice sounded: "What?"

"You always that polite, Leah?"

It was so silent that I thought I had lost her. "Nessie?" After the first whisper, she recovered herself. "What the hell are you thinking, kid? Do you have any idea..." I held the phone away from my ear as Leah ranted on. She would have to calm down eventually, if only to breathe. Hopefully, before the world ended. Finally, she burst out: "How are you?"

"A little chilled."

"Yeah, I hear the arctic gets that way sometimes. You with the crazy chick?"

"She's not—yes, Leah. I am. We are together, alive and in perfect health. Anything else? Or can I talk to Jacob now?"

"He's in Alaska. Well, technically on a plane to Alaska." So I was too late. Leah sounded almost offended. "The second your parents called, off he went. He took the whole pack with him, too. If my brother loses his job because he was out hunting for your sorry ass—"

"Why are you still at home?" I had more important matters to address, but this was the most physically painful. Why hadn't she come looking for me?

"Someone has to run La Push. It was either me or Jake, so yeah," she shrugged.

"You pried Sam's hopefully still warm hands off the Chiefdom?"

Leah burst out laughing. "Nope." Fairly exploding with pride, she informed me, "Jacob's Chief now, permanently, no competition. When your dad called, said you were gone, Sam basically dared him not to go. So he fucking tore Sam apart. It was—" she giggled and my eyebrows rose up, because I didn't want to hear about what turned Leah on "—anyway, there's only one pack now. It's all Jake's and I'm in charge since he's gone."

And how long would that last once Jacob left? Questions for another day. "That's great, Leah. It's about time."

"Yeah, it did take him long enough." The amusement stopped. It was time for the serious stuff. "Why'd you do it, kid? I've never heard the bloodsuckers sound that upset."

"You know all those horrible things you say about them all the time? I've started thinking maybe you aren't just bitter."

"Nessie, just because they act—"

"Leah, whatever you say, I'm going to know you don't believe it. So could we just...not have this conversation?"

She went quiet, but eventually saw I was right. "Fine. So why did you call?"

"Do you think you could get Jacob to call off the search?"

"So you can wander the Frozen North for all eternity?"

"Of course not. I just need time to be by myself for a little while. Father did it. Jacob did it. Why can't I? I'm not planning on killing anyone along the way."

"How old was your father when he went off?"

"Shelia's about as old as you are. I'm not alone and I'm smart and I really need to do this, Leah. Please convince Jacob to leave me alone. Or let me talk to him. Please, Leah?"

"Tell me where you are and I'll send him to you."

I choked a little. Disbelief could do that to a person. "Would you seriously tell my parents where I was?"

"Like Jake would ever talk to me again if I didn't at least ask. Nessie, sweetie, this is fucking nuts. Hang up on me and call your parents to pick you up. Or if you don't want to do that, at least let me call Jake. He can bring you home."

"Leah," I was out and out whining now, which probably not helping my 'so mature' argument. "Please don't make me come home. Listen, I think we're going to head to Washington anyway. We'll just take our time, so I can figure everything out without all these people in my head."

That made Leah listen, even though she didn't want to. Wasn't that all she had wanted, so many years ago? How could she deny me the same thing?

"You can't seriously think you can walk back here."

"I can do anything I set my mind to, remember?"

"That's just bullshit parents have to tell their children. You can't seriously walk across the biggest country in the world."

"Largest coastline in the world, but only second biggest landmass and I'm not walking across it. I'm walking over part of it. British Columbia isn't _that_ big. Hopefully, I'll be there in time for my birthday. Maybe. It's not a big deal, Leah. There's no school for me to miss, no friends to miss me—well, please come up with something to tell Frank—and I am the world's most dangerous predator. Please? I barely have a year left before I stop aging. Think of it as my teenage rebellion."

"Why are you such an overachiever?" She sighed, but finally said: "I think this is a dumb idea, but...I'll try and call the dogs off. No promises—Jake's going to be hard to convince. But I'll try."

"Thank you, Leah. You're the best."

"Shut up. I'm regretting it already," she muttered.

I heard a voice call to her and asked: "Who was that?"

"Your grandfather. He's helping Brutus move her stuff. They're moving in together."

"Not that you're bitter or anything."

"I'd get over it faster if she wasn't being so damn high and mighty, like she _had_ to sell us out for the good of the tribe. Whatever. We'll make nice when Seth gets home. It's what we do. Do you...want to talk to him? I mean, he's family, right?"

"Right," my voice seemed to be coming from somewhere very far away. Charlie was my mother's father. We might never talk (he just gazed at me fondly and I smiled back), but he was her _father_. "Yeah. I'll talk to him."

Leah shouted on the phone and then a familiar voice came on the other line. It was the strangest sensation, like I was outside my body. Or maybe I was so furious I wasn't aware of my own two feet.

"Nessie?"

"Yes, Grandpa?"

He coughed nervously. "It's good to hear your voice."

"You too."

"You taking good care of yourself?"

"How come you never asked your daughter that?"

"What?"

"How come you don't ask why I look so much like her but grow up faster than humanly possible? How come you don't ask why she hasn't aged a day since I was born? How come you didn't stop Father from seeing her? How come—how come you didn't stop him?"

I would have dropped the phone, but a dark hand wrapped over mine, forcing me to keep clutching it. Shelia laid her head on my shoulder, her hand around my waist, her body far too close—but then she did not understand personal space. At least she was warm.

"I—I didn't—" Charlie finally gave an answer. "I just wanted her happy."

"And you didn't care how?"

"I suppose I didn't," he said slowly. "Nessie? I'm—I'm sorry."

"Your daughter's a vampire, Charlie. Open your eyes and tell Leah that I'll be home as soon as I can."

Then I hung up the phone.

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TBC...


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: A few things, to celebrate that we are now for sure at the middle, because I am not going over sixty chapters, no matter what:

1) Not to get all political on you, but, suburbanite that I am, I had never heard of aerial shooting (also called aerial gunning) until Wolfen Dreams (and Ashley Judd, but I digress) brought it to my attention. Since some of you reading about werewolves might care about the fate of real wolves as well, I thought I'd bring it to your attention. People shoot wolves from helicopters in order to control the population of predators in places like Alaska, with permission from the government. Good? Bad? The issue exists. Look into it if you're interested.

2) The chapters were getting ridiculously long, so I'm making an effort to cut them down (and writing really long author's notes, instead :D). That's why most of Jacob's conversation is missing and there's much less on the hybrids than I planned on. Hopefully, with less dialogue, Shelia is more understandable.

3) No chapter tomorrow night...it's my birthday and I'm heading out of town to celebrate (not sure if the hotel has internet).

4) The next chapter has the actual physical return of werewolves. Thanks for hanging in there.

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Chapter 30

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"And you're sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Jacob." I gave him the same answer I had given the previous twenty-seven times, though he still did not believe me. I didn't mind repeating myself. If that was what reassuring him required, I would do it. "Going through the mountains was probably the hardest part. It's been easy since."

"I don't like it," he grumbled for the thirty-second time this conversation. Last time he had worked it in forty-two times.

"I know. Thank you for not dragging me back anyway."

Though he wanted to, desperately, he hadn't come after me. Leah had convinced him not to, which gave me a nameless sort of hope that I didn't dwell on too much. Perhaps he had just not wanted to violate my wishes.

"Only so you have more time to dread exactly how much you're trouble you're going to be in when you get back. I'm thinking of forcing you to eat lima beans for the rest of your life."

"A person would go crazy on lima beans for eternity. You wouldn't do that to me, would you, Jacob?"

"And you wouldn't disappear for months at a time. Oh wait—"

"Ha ha. Have I told you I miss you?"

Only fifty-one times, but Jacob wasn't counting.

"I miss you, too, Nessie. Stay safe."

"You too. Listen to Leah."

"I have been known to have intelligent thoughts of my own," he whined.

I just giggled. "Sure you do. Hers are just better."

"Thanks."

But even through the sarcasm, I could hear the warmth in his voice. It was almost overwhelming, how much I missed him. But we had already been talking for fifty-six minutes and Shelia was getting tired of waiting.

"Jacob? Is Seth there? I haven't talked to him in two months...."

Leah was content to torture me by not talking about it at all, and even if Jacob couldn't yell at me, it didn't mean he didn't want to. Seth would simply not want have the inclination, even though I deserved it. Better to talk to him.

Jacob did as I asked, calling the younger werewolf to the phone. We exchanged a few pleasantries—he complained about not being able to enjoy the summer fully, now that he was stuck working—and then I got to the point.

"How's Charlie?"

"Fine. Mom's got the whole place sparkling like your parents. Hold on a sec." I could hear him move the receiver away from his mouth, though the phone still picked up most of what he said. "If Leah was here, you know she'd say that if you can't trust _me_ on the phone with your imprint, you got serious issues, Jake."

I could hear Jacob snarling in the background, and Seth laughing. "I know you're still listening," he called. When he spoke again his voice was almost too low to hear. "He will give up, eventually."

"Why are we whispering?"

"We're not telling him Charlie knows," Seth said in the same low tone. "Me, Mom and Leah are going to be the only ones who know for sure he...knows for sure. Leah said the fewer people we tell, the less likely someone will find out who shouldn't."

"Then why did she tell you?"

Seth snorted. "I love my mother and my sister, but can you really picture the two of them helping Charlie calm down?"

The image of the two Clearwater women attempting to be sympathetic was enough to make me smile, even though I still felt guilty. "Do you think he'll be safe enough?"

"The Volturi come to town and Leah and I will be up at his house so fast...well, Leah will be up there so fast. I'll get there as quickly as I can. But we'll protect him. Don't worry about it, Nessie. He'll be safe, if it comes to that. Hell, if it comes to that, we're all probably screwed anyway."

"Comforting, Seth."

"I try," he said. "Don't beat yourself up about it. He mostly knew, anyway. Pale skin, eternal youth...it was just the whole blood thing that made him a little queasy."

"I wonder why." A truck drove past us and I cringed, hoping Shelia wouldn't chase after it. I didn't want to leave the payphone if I didn't have to, but sometimes she decided she just had to follow the big things that moved. "Shelia, sit," I begged and she did just that, though she was pouting a little.

"So how is everyone else?" I asked.

Jacob wouldn't tell me. He thought it would make me eager to come home faster if I had news to find out—he had yet to realize it wasn't that I didn't _want_ to come home...I was just...scared. But Seth hadn't been told about the knowledge ban, for he proceeded to answer. Unfortunately, Seth's list of friends was very inclusive.

"And I went up to visit yesterday," he concluded. There was no need for him to identify whom he had seen. The lack of subject made it clear.

"How are they?"

"Emmett offered to arm wrestle. Once."

"Oh." It was worse than I feared. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and forced myself to speak again. "What about...?"

"Edward and Bella miss you. A lot. They can't wait until you get back. They don't even care you haven't called them."

The reproach was clear, more subtle and yet more hurtful than Jacob's order to call my parents had been. Jacob's decree had been a formality, for he was all right with whatever I did, even when I was doing something as awful as this. It took a lot to disappoint Seth—I guess Leah was right. I really was an overachiever.

"I want to. I just...I can't, Seth. Not—not yet."

"Hey, don't cry, Nessie," he said in the panicked voice all the male werewolves used when I was upset. "They're fine. Just...you'll be home soon, right?"

"Soon. I think we're getting near the border. Tell Jacob I'll call when I know more."

We said our goodbyes and then I hung up. My hand was shaking a little on the receiver, but I placed it down without incident. Then, noticing I was alone, I called out: "Shelia?"

She came, like she always did, shirt just a little more shredded than the last time I had seen her. After we had crossed the mountains, we had started leaving clothes behind like crazy. I had found a thrift store when we had passed through Vancouver and bought us tank tops and shorts, which she had since been trying to destroy. Since we rarely bought anything else, there should be enough money to last until we got back.

The summer was winding down, but there were still a few weeks until my sixth birthday. We were actually traveling much slower than we could, stopping to enjoy the scenery, or to play hide and seek in different national parks. And I still hadn't decided what I was going to do when I got home.

"Do you know how long until the border?" I asked her as we began jogging down the highway. I would have preferred to walk, to prolong the experience, but people kept pulling over and offering us rides. It was just more convenient to keep in motion.

"Passed. Yesterday, probably."

"You sure?"

Shelia rolled her eyes. "Thirty-four stripped flag in last six hours. Sure. How wolf?"

What with the memories I had transmitted to her and the way I constantly talked about the werewolves to avoid talking about the vampires, Shelia probably knew enough about Jacob to put my mother to shame.

"Jacob's good. He got invited to some conference or something and they get to make a speech, so he was complaining about the work, but it's sounds like it's going to be really good for them. And someone broke the back porch, but he wouldn't tell me who, so it's definitely his fault. Leah was out shopping with her mother so I didn't get to talk to her today, but hopefully we'll be back soon, anyway."

"Soon," she agreed. "Sisters get bored of Americas quick. Good to see them soon."

I would have apologized for taking her away from her family, but I had learned quickly enough that when she brought up her sisters it wasn't because she regretted leaving them. It was simply her way of not missing them.

She was sure they were still on this side of the world, waiting for her to find them. That she wouldn't be able to never crossed her mind and despite the large expanse of land, I didn't doubt she was right. They would stay until she came back—even hybrids seemed to have endless patience. They were very much like my family, that way. But I hadn't spent my formative years being exposed to the elements. Why should I receive Shelia's privilege?

We stopped at some side-of-the-road, fifties throwback-type diner, filled with tired truck drivers and road weary families, who couldn't seem to stop their screaming children. It had to be endured—despite our mutual loathing for most human food, I thought it a good idea to make Shelia eat some at least once every few days. We ordered hamburgers (Shelia didn't know much about food and I couldn't very well order chicken cordon bleu in such a place—our waitress had nails longer than some of my fingers. Enough said).

Usually we joked about the horror of eating potatoes, but today Shelia was oddly quiet, too busy staring at the various inhabitants of the dinner and fidgeting. The more time passed, the louder the silence grew, the more worried I became. She had followed my no-dead-human policy this whole time, but she might have reached a breaking point. And the agility, speed and pure aggression she displayed while hunting suggested I didn't have a hope of physically stopping her, if her desire to follow my example should cease.

No sooner had I worked myself into a panic, than Shelia announced: "I hungry."

"You're already eating." I admit it—I was begging.

"Not _that_ hungry," she said, smiling, to better show off her gleaming white teeth.

"We can go hunting, later. We'll find a nice bear, somewhere. Or something."

Her nose wrinkled. "Bear? That not—" Suddenly, she burst out laughing, loud enough to draw attention from the rest of the patrons. Shaking her head, still giggling, she protested: "No, no, Nessie. I not hungry for food. Other hungry."

"Blood?" I offered, quietly.

"Not blood," she corrected. "I do not want nourishment. I want—" she broke off, searching for the word. Her grammar could be perfect and when she started telling me about migration patterns her vocabulary sometimes exceeded mine, but English wasn't her first language. Or her second, actually. She threw out a few terms and though I could identify the language, sometimes, I had no idea what she was trying to tell me.

"I'm sorry."

Now she was getting frustrated with herself. "Always scientific word no one understand. Stupid sisters. Here."

So she took her hands and...oh.

I got it.

The obscenity would have made Leah blush, but the blush on my cheeks just made Shelia relax. "You do know. How do I ask for it in English?"

"Ask...? Oh. Um...I guess, you would just say—" I could hear the blood howling in my ears, my face turning so red the heat coming off me was painful, but I spat it out. "Do you want to have sex?"

She tested the phrase out on her tongue, while I tried not to hide under the table. It was not working and she noticed my discomfort. "Why are you...nervous?"

I could explain to her I was fifteen, but that wouldn't mean anything to her at all. Instead, I just offered: "That's just not something I do."

"But you and wolf."

"_Jacob_? Ew. No. It's not like that. Well, it will be, one day, but that day is far, far in the future—" possibly in a year, but just thinking it made my skin crawl "—and he's Jacob. Anyway, Dad can read my mind. He would know if I...with anyone. Ew. So no way am I...doing that."

"Good thing you not tell sisters. They would think it such waste."

"Have to pop out those babies quick," I muttered, angry mostly from the embarrassment.

"Babies? They not want...they just want man who strong, man they not break if they not careful. Get lonely. Not babies. Sakhet not want more; Elmira cannot."

"What?"

"Pelvis not heal proper," Shelia snarled at her dead father. "Might kill her. She not die for child, she say."

Because who would be crazy enough to do that?

"Oh. I just assumed...Sorry."

She didn't even pay attention to my apology, already concentrating on her own needs. "I go be not hungry. You will stay here?"

Her eyes were already focused on one of the truck drivers, rather unattractive but finished his meal, healthy looking enough and staring in our direction. I wanted to tell her no, that she couldn't do this, that she had to stay with me—how could I supervise her if she was with a man? But she had spent two months in my company without thought, had done everything I had asked her to and had earned herself a little bit of trust.

"Promise you won't kill him?"

"Promise," she said with an easy smile. "Be back soon."

She sauntered over to the man and struck up easy conversation, her English perfect. It took her five minutes to get him outside. I was left alone, trying not to freak out.

It wasn't just about Shelia not eating someone. Somehow, this felt like a much bigger test. If Shelia could stop, could change her habits, despite all that had happened to her, maybe my family could, too. Maybe it didn't matter what had happened in the past if they were so very different now...and maybe I was just deluding myself into making a terrible error in judgment. Just because I wanted someone to be better than they were didn't mean they could be.

Almost two months and I had no answer. Some days I thought my family guilty of every vile thing under the sun and some days I thought they were pure as snow. Most days were somewhere in between and home was getting nearer.

Not that I made much progress in the diner—the more time elapsed, the less I was left alone. I was polite when I turned away offers of company, or tried to be, but it made me depressed. It made me think of Jacob and Leah, playing (or not playing) boyfriend and girlfriend to gain some peace. They, at least, I could love without guilt.

Eventually, Shelia appeared in the window, beckoning me to come out. I paid the bill and headed outside, where it took only the lightest breeze to stop my heart.

"You have blood on your lips," I whispered.

She caught my wrist before I could run away. I wasn't planning to—turning away to throw up, maybe, or sink to the ground in tears, but I wasn't going to run from my terrible mistake.

"Alive," she said. The word forced me to look at her, as she continued: "He alive. I keep my promise. He is alive—but I did not promise I would not drink. I will show you. Come."

I followed her, as she led me by the wrist to one of the trucks parked behind the diner. Before I had even climbed the stairs, I could hear the steady thump of the heart, but it was only when I saw the naked man in the cab, a large bruise on his neck and clothes obscuring parts of him I didn't wish to see, did I believe.

"You didn't kill him."

Oh. Air had never tasted so good.

"No. When he wake up, he think I...different. But he not mind too much, I think. Blood best after sex. Nessie want?"

"What?"

"Heart beat still strong. You have taste. I warn you when to stop. He not wake up soon. Long drive last night."

I stared at her and then back at the man. The blood had pooled just under his skin from the force of Shelia's bite, waiting for someone to come along and collect just a little bit of it. I hadn't had human blood since I was a babe and the thought was tantalizing. But...

"No. We should go."

As easily as ever, Shelia said, "Okay. Race to road?"

I followed after her. Easily. As much as I wanted to try the forbidden delicacy, there was nothing holding me to the blood. I could run away. Shelia had stopped without thought. We really were a breed apart.

It would not be fair to compare my desire for blood with a true vampire. I could survive on many things. The smell of blood called to me, like freshly baked pie on a cool autumn day, but I could refuse on a child's whim. To describe such a yearning as an addiction would be laughable. Yet addiction was my father's word. The others were not like my Mother. It was only over time that they could deny the blood, for it was their most basic instinct. It would not be fair to punish them for it—not when the blood was to them what breathing was to me.

It was time to face the truth.

The true monster in the Cullen house was named Renesmee.

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TBC...


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

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I would miss the outdoors. It was hard not to fall in love with the world—with the sunshine and the air and even the snow and the rain—watching Shelia who loved it all so much. But all things had to end. Hadn't Jasper once tried to teach me that?

Thinking of my family hurt and I tried to forget, as I pulled Shelia through the forest. My tracking skills had increased exponentially, thanks to her, and I could tell Paul was the one on patrol. He didn't give us much trouble, when I approached, other than to growl at Shelia a few times. But he let us pass. I was the Chief's imprint, after all. So what if I was bringing a potentially harmful creature onto his land? He would let Jacob deal with it.

Paul even accompanied us right to the end of the Clearwater's street, licking my hand, welcoming me back. I scratched behind the giant wolf's ears. Why was I feeling guilty? There was nothing wrong with seeing the werewolves. Waving goodbye to my escort, I climbed up the front steps and knocked on the door.

"Close your eyes," I ordered Shelia. I wasn't sure what day of the week it was, or what time it was, but if Seth was home...it was just better if Shelia closed her eyes.

But it wasn't Seth who opened the door. Leah stood there, just staring until I had to ask:

"Are you happy to see me?"

"You're crazy," she informed me. And then faster than was humanly possible, her arms were around me and I was being lifted into the air. "I can't believe it," she laughed. "You're here. You're alive. You have boobs."

"It's a miracle," I agreed as I kissed her cheek. "You look the same, of course. Where is everyone?"

"Jake's never going to forgive you for this. Him, Dumb and Dumber finally decided to fix the porch today. They're out getting supplies. They'll be back soon. Come inside. Are you hungry? Tired? You stink, you definitely need to take a shower—who the—the other one?"

"Yes, Leah. This is Shelia, one of the other hybrids. Shelia, you can open your eyes. And move a little bit, it's kind of scary." When she started following my directions, I looked imploringly at Leah. "I know I shouldn't have brought her here, but I couldn't just leave her. She's taken good care of me the past while."

"Which wouldn't have been necessary if you hadn't run off," Leah said cheerfully. But she held out her hand to Shelia. "I guess I should say thank you. Uh...okay," Leah choked out as Shelia engulfed Leah in a large hug that did not quite disguise the sniffing. I giggled and tugged at the back of Shelia's shirt, to give Leah some room. Then I asked: "How have you been?"

"I dumped my boyfriend, swore off men, changed my mind and found a new one—and you aren't meeting him until you promise to be nice."

"I will if he's not a loser."

"Shut up," Leah ordered. But she was laughing. "He's cute. Oh, Mom is officially living in Forks. She might have to give up being an Elder—they haven't quite decided yet—but she's okay with me taking over, so I might get to _officially_ be on the Council soon."

Leah did a little dance and I laughed. "The power's already gone to your head?"

"It'll be nice getting a little recognition after all this time," she admitted. "Most people don't know I'm the beta wolf. They just think I'm doing all that work because I'm fu—friends with Jake."

"Speaking of beta wolves...how does Sam like answering to you?"

Leah pouted. "I finally get to boss him around and Emily goes and has twins. The poor guy's so exhausted lately it's not fun making him do things. Besides, aside from the initial jackassery that Sam can't help, he has been trying to make things easier for everyone. Integrating the two packs has been such a bitch. The little minions keep running their mouths, so we've had to manually shut a few up, but whatever.

"Like you didn't enjoy yourself far beyond what you should." I looked up when a thump came from the ceiling. "What was that?"

"Seth must have finally woken up from his nap. Poor kid has been working like—crap."

Her eyes went to Shelia, who had been wandering around the room, touching everything. There was really only one thing to do. Leah grabbed Shelia, while I opened the door. Once the person who was basically responsible for my survival for the past two months was outside, I locked the door in her face. She would forgive me. She might even have figured out why she couldn't stay inside.

When Seth came down the stairs, it was to find me and Leah trying not to look guilty in front of the door.

"Hey," Seth said, blinking. "Nessie's back."

"Excellent observation, Captain Obvious," Leah sighed. "Jeez, what a warm welcome."

"Sorry. Distracted by the whole looking shifty thing," Seth shrugged. "Welcome back, Nesise. It's good to see you again."

"You too," I agreed as I hugged him. "Could you do me a favor and go blind? Just temporarily?"

"Uh...okay?"

"Just put on a toque," Leah ordered. "And make sure it covers your eyes."

From inside the closet, Leah pulled out a thick, woolen black hat, and arranged it over his face, which caused Seth to wonder, "How am I supposed to breathe with that on?" I went to the door. Shelia was scratching her arm, but when she saw me all she said was, "Next time ask. No need for push."

"Sorry. We panicked. You want to come in and meet Seth now?"

"If you want." She stopped scratching and stared at me, unmoving, dark eyes questioning. "Nessie, why are we here?"

"These are my friends. I missed them."

"You missed your family as well, yet we are not seeing them. I do not understand. Why are we here and not there?"

She picked _now_ to start wondering what was going on in my head? I guess hybrids really were cursed to ruin everything. "I need a little more time," I whispered. "It's just a visit. Now are you meeting Seth or not?"

"I go soon," she told me. "Meet him, go soon. I no stay with you. Sisters miss me."

"I never thought you'd stick around forever." Maybe a little longer but...if traveling British Columbia had taught me anything, it was that I was more adaptable than I thought. "Now come on, before he suffocates."

Despite the fact that Shelia could be rather hands on sometimes, Seth was a good sport about the whole not seeing her precaution. The two of them actually seemed to be getting along far too well for Leah's enjoyment. I wanted a distraction. Seth obliged, as always, though not the way I would have liked. He leaned back on the couch and said: "I can't believe Edward didn't call ahead, to warn us you were coming."

My face must have given me away because Leah started looking at me questioningly. When the silence went on too long, I had to answer, if only to stop her from glaring.

"I came here first. I'm a disaster. I wanted to look a little bit nicer before I went back."

"Seriously?" Seth snorted.

"Yeah," I whispered. "I need a shower and to make sure I remember how to converse with others. And Jacob would have been furious if I hadn't come to see him. Plus, I just...I need to stop thinking like a wild women. We wouldn't want to scare my parents."

"Seth?" Leah asked her brother. "Do you smell bullshit, or is that just me?"

"Nope, not just you. And I can't even breathe through my nose right now."

Leah bit her lip, but decided, "Jacob can interrogate you. I want to hear about all the crazy things you've been doing the past couple of months. You didn't end up selling your body on the side of the road, did you? Because I just want to say now, I thoroughly disapprove."

"Darn. You should have told me before," I said as I rolled my eyes. "Actually, we made money by—is that the car?"

Turning in my seat, I strained my ears. There was no doubt that there was a car pulling into the driveway, gravel crushing underneath the tires. Doors opened and closed, men's voices called to each other, laughing back and forth. In my excitement, I stood up too quickly even for a half-vampire and almost destroyed the Clearwater's coffee table.

"Were you just ungraceful?" Leah demanded as she steadied me.

"Shut up."

"Ungraceful? And I missed it?" Seth whined. Leah hit his hat-covered head. I left them too it. Leah was ordering Shelia into the backyard until we got everything sorted out, Seth was asking if that meant he could take off the toque and I was trying to figure out how to open the door despite my shaking hands. But I managed eventually.

And there was my Jacob.

I was giggling and crying and calling hello, all in the same breath. His eyes went wide at the sight of me—I must have looked crazy—but he caught me easily as I jumped off the porch. It was the same as it had always been. When his arms wrapped around me, I was perfectly content.

"Don't you dare do that again," he muttered into my ear. He didn't let me go as my feet dangled almost a foot off the ground.

"I won't. I missed you."

I clutched Jacob tighter, gave him a kiss on the cheek and then let him put him down. Our months apart had not changed him at all, had not deepened the lines on his face or dampened the brightness of his eyes. He remained constant as my hair grew out, as my hands became calloused, as my skin browned and burned. I had missed him desperately...and much less than I had thought I would.

"You're too thin," he declared. "What have you been eating?"

"I'm fine, Jacob. I thought the others were with you?"

"They started bringing everything to the back. I needed to get—you got taller. And...smellier?"

"It's not that bad."

"I like it," he agreed. "It drowns out the leech smell."

Wrapping one arm around my shoulders as I pouted, he turned me around, where the two Clearwaters were standing in the door, talking quietly. As we headed towards them, Jacob asked, "Why is Seth dressed like that?"

"Because Shelia—oh no."

Leah swore, realizing when I did that she had just sent Shelia to greet Quil and Embry. She was already heading through the house and I hurried after her, leaving Jacob to escort the blinded Seth through the house (unsuccessfully, it sounded like, what with the sounds of crashing furniture).

Leah stopped by the back door. As I came to stand beside her, she asked: "Why do they always have to look so happy?"

Because that's how Embry looked, as he said hello to my sister. Even her strange greeting just seemed to make him more amused—and Quil seemed seconds away from bursting into laughter, watching his friend as he kissed the back of her hand. Embry's awestruck gaze was enough to make _me_ want to wretch, and I had grown up around my parents. Poor Leah.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to Leah. "I should have—"

"He's happy. She'll be happy. Why are you apologizing?"

"Hey," Jacob said coming up behind us, hand on her shoulder, "When did you start getting all reasonable and stuff?"

"Shut up," Leah whined, leaning into him. "It's been known to happen."

"Once. And I think you were eight."

"You're not funny, Jake. I can't believe this—if Embry's girlfriend is crazy, it's just too easy to make fun of him. Not sporting at all."

"Embry has a girlfriend?" Seth asked. "Since when?"

Jacob ripped the hat off his head, leaving Seth with rather adorable hat hair. He readjusted to the light and then frowned at the scene in the backyard, Embry standing too close to Shelia, explaining what was going on, why he was never going to take his eyes off of her. I had already explained imprinting to her, and that it was possible the wolves would be drawn to her, so she was nodding easily. Nothing was going to disturb her.

"Oh," Seth observed. "Excellent. No more stupid hat."

The two older werewolves hit him in the back of the head, but not with any real force. They didn't seem _that_ upset with the newest development. Maybe they realized there was no point in being angry, since what was done could not be undone. Plus, there was Jacob's explanation: "Embry's been getting a little lonely lately. At least he'll shut up now."

"Not to mention get to experience eternal happiness," Leah said. Her ability to insert sarcasm into words was rather impressive.

"Welcome back, angry and bitter," Jacob said. Leah rolled her eyes, but didn't hit him, so he continued, "Well, as fun as staring at Embry acting like a puppy is, I say we sit around and talk about Nessie's transcontinental walking trip. Why don't you stay for diner too? Sue and Charlie are coming over and I'm sure they'll be glad to see you."

"Can you build a porch and listen to me at the same time?" I asked for Leah's benefit.

"No fun," Jacob complained. But he agreed just the same.

I was told to sit on a tree stump and speak loudly as they all got to work; Shelia perched against my feet and kept her eyes firmly on Embry, which caused him to blush constantly—and to look ridiculously happy all the time.

Quil was the foreman of the little operation and got far too much delight out of ordering the others around, though they had too much fun making faces at him behind his back. They kept the verbal insults to a minimum, so they could hear my story. I was still describing the Alaskan terrain when they actually got to work.

Which, for some reason, required them to disrobe.

There was something different about the werewolves, something I had never noticed before. It was like when Emmett switched from a high definition to a blue-ray DVD player. Though my eyes had seen everything perfectly beforehand, everything was suddenly _too_ clear now. Not only could I see the sweat dripping down Quil's back, but for some reason I couldn't look away. Embry's lungs inflated and recoiled the same as they always had, but inhalation had never seemed so exciting. And I was sure the muscles in Seth's upper body had always contracted in such a way, though now that he was destroying the remains of the back porch with a sledgehammer, I found it endlessly fascinating to observe simple anatomical movement.

"She's what?" Jacob's voice bellowed from the front of the house. That would be Leah informing him I had yet to go home. Hopefully, he would wait until the manual labor was finished before he commenced with the lecturing. When he followed Leah back into the backyard, both carrying the rest of the lumber, Jacob was scowling. I was going to be in trouble, later.

I smiled and concentrated on my story. And not staring. Because as oblivious as male werewolves always were...Kipling was right. The female of the species was more deadly than the male. Leah would notice—and then she would kill me.

Still...it would have been rude not to look at my audience occasionally.

Everyone worked efficiently as I talked, so I kept at it, hoping that the more information I gave, the less they would demand. I didn't want to have to explain my logic just yet. Because if I was a monster (and there wasn't any doubt in my mind about that), how could I ignore that it had been my family that had worked diligently towards allowing me to kill one of the most wonderful human beings on the planet? Easier to let Shelia play with my hair as I watched half-naked men work than to think about vampires.

"You two comfortable over there?" Embry called over to us. Not that he cared how I was, but it was nice of him to pretend.

"I'm fine. How are you, Shelia?" I asked lazily.

My sister raised her hands above her head, arching her back, stretching her tense muscles. Her eyes were locked on Embry as a satisfied smile played on her lips. There was no regret that she would never be able to return to her sisters—perhaps it had not occurred to her yet. She just said plainly:

"Hungry."

Leah had already picked up one of the broken balusters in her hand as I hurried to assure everyone that, "It doesn't mean what you think it does. ESL girl, here."

Jacob stared at Leah. "That means you can put the stake down now, Buffy."

"At least I thought to pick up a weapon." Leah made a face. "I can't believe I was the only one who wanted to save Embry."

"Pssst, Leah," he whispered. "We don't need weapons. We're werewolves."

"Shapeshifters," Seth corrected. His sister took the bait, throwing the piece of wood at him as he laughed. Though he blocked it easily enough, he proceeded to complain in a singsong voice, "I'm telling Mom."

"What now?" Sue demanded as she entered the backyard. "Are you two ever—Nessie?"

"Hello, Sue," I said getting up from the tree trunk. Charlie was coming up behind her and I began mentally berating myself for being stupid and selfish. It didn't matter. At the Clearwater house, I could hide my thoughts. I put on a smile and stood up.

Sue stepped out of the way as I went to greet my grandfather. It was a little funny, calling Charlie a grandfather. He not quite fifty—his granddaughter was a year away from being eighteen. He was still tall and upright and the blood pounding through his veins was strong. Looking at him made me smile.

"Hello Grandpa. I—I'm sorry."

Let the others think it was because I had run away. Charlie seemed to understand, for he nodded. Then he hugged me. His arms were nothing like Mother's, but they reminded me of her somehow and I had to choke back a sob.

This close to him, I could hear as he swallowed. "It's good to have you back. Who—who's that?"

"_Another_ one?" Sue demanded. "The treaty—"

"We know, Mother," Leah snapped. "It's fine."

"She's Embry's new girlfriend, Mom. He invited her over," Seth said a little more diplomatically. It didn't calm his mother down, but it did make her realize there was nothing she could do. Imprints trumped everything.

Charlie leaned over and asked right into my ear: "Is that—is that one of your special friends?"

"Yes. That's my friend." Tears came into my eyes, as I beckoned her forward, before I smiled shyly at my grandfather. "This is Shelia. She's very much like me."

"It is an honor to meet you, Mister Swan," she crooned. "Nessie has told me much about you."

He might have been trembling a little bit as he shook her hand, but he shook it. Then he muttered, "It should go without saying you're grounded."

He chose now to try and discipline me? Better late than never, even though I was planning to do a much better job punishing myself than Grandpa ever could. I hugged him again and followed him inside when Jacob said it was time for pizza.

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A/N: Did someone say the chapters were getting shorter? Sigh. Why isn't Nessie going home? Answers will be very explicit next chapter, if not entirely logical.


	32. Chapter 32

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Chapter 32

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Dinner was wonderful, as long as I didn't look at Shelia or Embry. She kept feeding him and he kept licking her fingers clean. Gross and very unnecessary. Yet it wasn't as bad as when Charlie and Sue got up to leave. Eager to be friendly, desperate to help me, Grandpa unthinkingly said, "We can give you a ride home, Nessie."

Everyone turned to me and I tried to think of something to say. Mostly, I ended up staring at Jacob imploringly and when that didn't work—as close as we were, Jacob couldn't read my mind—I had to say, "Actually, since I don't think Shelia would really be welcome at home...and since she's leaving soon...I was sort of hoping the two of us could just stay here for the night. So we could spend one last day together. I'm sure my parents won't mind."

Only Charlie remotely believed me and even he was a little skeptical. Because I was a lying liar who lied. Fortunately, now that he knew what I wanted, Jacob easily kicked everyone out of the house. Or as much of everyone as he could. Embry flatly refused to leave Shelia, and since she growled at Jacob, he decided to just leave them talking (and kissing) in the corner while he and Leah turned to me.

"What the hell?" Jacob asked simply.

"Just for tonight," I begged. "I need to consider something after I've slept in a proper bed. Please?"

Leah and Jacob looked at each other, trading glances over my head, just like they used to do. Only this time I did not mind being kept out of the conversation. I wasn't sure I would like what they had to say. Finally, Leah said slowly, "I guess one night couldn't hurt. She could take my old room and her friend can take yours."

"Room?" Shelia asked, pulling Embry to his feet.

"Upstairs, first door on your right," Jacob said reluctantly.

Shelia dragged Embry away, as he smiled a huge, stupid smile at me. Poor Jacob's room.

"Does that mean I can stay?" I asked. If I gave them too much time to think about what Embry and Shelia were sure to be doing, they might change their minds.

"Fine, Nessie," Jacob agreed. "But only for one night."

"Thank you," I cried, throwing my arms around him.

"Kidnapping," Seth faked coughed. It startled me away. The older two were glaring daggers at him but Seth continued eating his pizza, with a deliberate nonchalance. "What do you want me to tell Edward?"

"Can't you just _not_ talk to your boyfriend tonight?" Leah demanded.

"You want him to hear the news from Mom? That'll over go _so_ well."

Once again, Jacob and Leah looked at each other. It made me so happy to see, I almost left the house right then and there. Exile was supposed to be a punishment. It was not supposed to leave me feeling giddy.

"Come on, Nessie," Leah said, holding out her hand. "I'll find you some clothes."

We left Jacob and her brother arguing in the kitchen, as I followed Leah up the stairs. Over her shoulder, she attempted to explain: "Don't mind Seth. He's been in a pissy mood lately. Which is sort of our fault for making him be the one to tell your Dad you had been calling... Don't worry about it. He'll get over it."

I nodded. Leah was right. Even if Seth realized I was a wicked daughter and rightfully hated me for it, he would forgive me. That's what he did.

Inside Leah's room, I watched as she hunted through her dresser. Since her old pajamas were much too big, even if I had grown, she gave me an old green tank top and shorts instead. She could have given me a paper bag and I wouldn't have cared. A hot shower—where I was finally able to shave properly, instead of rushing through it in restaurant restroom—followed by a change of clothes meant I had died and gone to heaven. From the shower I could hear the murmur of voices as Embry and Shelia talked. Thank goodness.

Leah was waiting for me in her room. The bed was unmade, but I was under the covers before she could apologize. It was divine. Maybe even better.

"Your hair is ridiculously long," Leah muttered. "You should cut it soon."

Like Rosalie always did. The smile I meant to give Leah turned into a grimace. "Anything else you want to criticize?"

"You should talk about it," she said. "Probably not to me...I'm not the most sympathetic of people and I do sort of hate your family...but I'm here if you want to try. Or Jacob will listen, if you'd prefer. You just need to talk to _somebody_. You didn't walk across a country just to hang out with us."

"I—I can't, Leah. When I can, I'll talk to you. But...let me try and work it out for myself, first. Please?"

"You can stay here however long you want. You know that, right? As long as you want...but..."

"Only if you promise not to be miserable," Jacob said as he came into the room. They both looked so worried, I couldn't help feeling guilty. That was better.

"Promise. Now, goodnight," I said. I kissed them both and watched as they left the room together. Then I flopped back onto the pillow and tried not to cry.

My memories of the first week of my life were not as complete as the time afterwards. There were some sights and sounds that flashed through my mind when I concentrated on them—like seeing Jacob's dark eyes for the first time—but for the most part all I remembered were feelings. I remembered the darkness, the tight walls, the certainty that what had once brought me comfort had suddenly turned hostile. The desperation was my earliest memory, the strength of it blocking out what I was certain had been a more pleasant existence beforehand. I had to get out of there. I couldn't wait. I didn't care who I hurt. Who I killed.

What sort of species needed to kill its ultimate protector in order to survive?

There was nothing to be done. Joham could not stop us and he knew more about the half-vampires than anyone past or present. There was just the task of picking up the pieces. Sakhet mourned what she could never know, Elmira tried to become what she could never be, Shelia dismissed what she could not touch and Nahuel hated himself for the loss of Huilen's sister. My mother tucked me in at night.

She loved me.

It was nonsensical, but true. She did not resent her murderer. No one did. Even though Father said he had been desperate to find another way, he readily accepted, even enjoyed, what I had done. With Mother by his side, he did not hate me in the slightest for taking away her humanity, the humanity he had prized for so long.

He loved me.

They all loved me.

They were trying to be better. I could understand the deaths they had accidentally and not so accidentally committed, in an abstract way. Sometimes I wasn't sure I had forgiven them for it, but I could understand it. It meant I couldn't hate them for their crimes, not when I loved them so much. Was that how they felt about me? Perhaps. Perhaps that was why they had simply allowed my transgression to occur.

I hated them, just a little bit.

They forgave me. They didn't care she was dead. She didn't care she was dead. She was my mother, I killed her and no one cared.

No one cared.

And that made them guiltier than a hundred unintentional deaths ever could. They said they loved her. They loved her still. But somehow her death was acceptable to them.

I was still trying to understand the monstrosity of it all when the length of my journey caught up with me and I fell asleep.

When I awoke, minutes or hours later, it was by that nameless sense that I seemed to have inherited from my parents, the sense that knew blood was nearby and begging to be taken. Blinking sleep from my eyes, I tried to figure out why my mouth was watering, my fingers twitching, my mind screaming at me to get up and find the source—that's when I heard the moan.

Shelia, I automatically identified. Without thought, I focused on the sound, which unfortunately brought other sound to my attention—heavy breathing, frequent grunting, the slapping of...ew. Ew. _Ew_. She couldn't have waited twenty-four hours before jumping him?

Now that I had noticed, it was impossible for me to ignore. I buried my head under my pillow in a futile attempt to stop myself from picturing the motions that accompanied each groan. I groaned myself, but it was sound of frustration, not of reciprocal lust. I wanted to kill them—or at least be able to escape.

Shelia had once said that Elmira was Joham's favorite because Sakhet wouldn't scream, Shelia wouldn't stop screaming, but Elmira cried just right. She had been referring to being whipped, but it seemed Shelia just liked screaming in general. And she didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

I climbed out of bed. Something had to be done about this. Outside in the hallway, I looked from the door opposite the stairs, where Leah had taken over her mother's room, to the other door across from me, which (thankfully) hid Shelia and Embry from view. Leah would be more efficient than I could be, but perhaps too brutal. And as I stood there, deliberating what to do, the door beside the guest bedroom opened and out stepped Seth.

Wearing his bedspread.

Only his bedspread.

And I was staring. I was standing in the hallway, listening to my best friend have sex and staring at Seth. More accurately, at his chest and the way he was holding the comforter low on his hips and...oh my.

"Ness?" Ridiculously glad that werewolf eyes weren't as good as vampire ones in the dark, and my blush might not be as obvious to his sleep-tired eyes, I forced my gaze up, to a confused face, framed by bed ruffled hair. "What the—?"

Shelia chose that moment to scream again. I was going to kill her.

With lanky werewolf grace, Seth settled himself on the floor. "They're all nuts," he muttered, resting his head in his hands.

I was saved from answering by another door opening. Leah was marching of the master bedroom, still dressed from dinner, complaining: "What the hell is wrong with him?"

Only she wasn't talking to us. She was talking to a shirtless Jacob, who was following her out of the bedroom.

"Did they wake you, too?" I asked, trying not to smirk.

They both looked uncomfortable, but Jacob muttered, "We were talking about the...the situation with you. About how long you should stay for."

"Topless?"

"Shut up, Seth. The air conditioner is broken again," Jacob explained, as Leah kicked her brother's leg. Then Jacob's eyes narrowed and he demanded, "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Before you and the rest of the world took over this house, I could wear what I wanted to bed." It was the sharpest speech I had ever heard from Seth, though it was belied by his smile and his cheerful, "Maybe I'll get pjs with paw prints on them. That would kind of rock."

"Yeah, Nessie's the five year old," Leah said, prompting her brother to stick out his tongue. Under my breath, I couldn't help but mutter, "Fifteen."

"Five," Jacob corrected.

"Considering the soundtrack," Leah said, "I really don't think you want her to be five right now, Jake."

Jacob thought about it for a second. "That's it. I'm going to kick him out."

Even though it was what I had wanted, I immediately felt guilty. Shelia had put up with me for two months and I hated to spoil her fun—however loudly she was having it. I found myself saying, "It is their first night together. They're just happy—maybe a little over-excited but—leave them be. It would be like spoiling someone's wedding. You can't do it. We can just plug our ears."

The three of them looked at me like I was crazy, but Leah was the only one that made a comment: "Twenty bucks says the she-vamp breaks him."

She and Jacob shook on the bet, before Jacob asked, "Do we have air freshener around here or something, at least?"

Leah nodded. She also gave a verbal answer, but that was drowned out by our enthusiastic roommates.

"What could they possibly be doing that's so loud?" Jacob demanded.

The two Clearwaters smirked at each other, even as I automatically answered Jacob's question.

"Coitus more ferarum."

All three pairs of eyes turned to me, and I found myself blushing. And crossing my arms in the world's most clichéd defensive pose. It was necessary, especially since I was foolish enough to try to explain, "She told me it was her favorite and since he is sort of a dog..."

"She told you that?" Jacob did not look happy. The vein on his temple began to pulse like some grotesque worm struggling to get out. "She told you—what's wrong with her?"

It took both Leah and Seth to stop him from charging right into the room and manually tearing Shelia to pieces. Leah had his arms, Seth his legs, as Jacob stood between them shaking—I wasn't even sure if he was trying to gain control.

"She told me because I _asked_. Shelia's my friend—so she tells me things. Things no one else has ever bothered to talk to me about."

"Things like _that_? I don't even know what that means and she's telling you about it?"

"Actu—" Too late Leah realized she should have kept her mouth shut. She pretended she hadn't said anything at all, as I stared at her, trying not to get my hopes up. Fortunately, Jacob couldn't stop himself from going, "Oh."

"Smooth," Seth chuckled.

This time it was Jacob who kicked him. Then he sighed. "Since I can't go and kill either of them, I'm thinking a graceful retreat is our only option."

"Right behind you, courageous Alpha," Leah mocked.

"Actually," Seth contributed, "It would be the other way—"

He scrambled inside his room, managing to dodge most of the blows the two of them tried to give him, and shut the door quickly. I hid my smile, said goodnight and slipped back into Leah's room.

"You all suck," Jacob called out to the world at large. Then Leah said something too quietly for me to hear and he told her to shut up. But he sounded a little more amused than he had before. I listened to them go hunting for air freshener downstairs as I tried to fall back asleep.

It didn't work. Despite the pillows on my head, ignoring Shelia was easier said than done. When someone knocked on the door fifteen minutes later, I was wide-awake enough to get out of bed quickly.

Seth was dressed now, thankfully, though the baggy t-shirt still showed off his delicious-looking arms. Before I had fully stopped staring, he was holding something out for me to take.

"Earplugs," he explained. "Never used. I recommend two in each ear, then put the earmuffs over them. Extra pillow from the closet. You need at least three to stick your head under. Take the blanket and shove it under the door. It should help with the smell. Oh, plus the nose plug. Stick that in first."

"The blood bothers you, too?"

"Blood?" Seth transferred the blanket over and then looked rather uncomfortable not holding anything at all. "No. I can't smell blood. Not like you, anyway."

"Then why—oh. You can smell _that_?"

"Make sure you arrange the pillows so you can breathe. Suffocation is bad."

"Are you going somewhere?"

He was already backing down the hall. "Out. Somewhere...anywhere else."

And though his discomfort was mostly because now Embry was grunting like some sort of wrestler, I couldn't help asking, "How did he take the news?"

"Like he deserved it. Which we both know isn't fair, but..."

"I really am sorry, Seth. Please, don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad." I crossed my arms, almost dropped all the supplies he had given me, and glared. All it did was finally make him grin. "I'm not mad. Sure, being the only person around here who never wanted to run away from home means I'm a little confused, but I'm not mad. I just...I just don't get it. And you don't owe it to me to explain or anything, but...yeah. I don't get it."

He gave me another little grin and tried to turn away, but I couldn't pretend my family was better off without me if Seth kept thinking they weren't, so I tried to convince him as best I could.

"I bet you never told your mother you have this down to the science, blocking out unwanted sights and sounds." Seth winced, a little, so I knew I was right. "You never told her how much it bothered you, not being able to not hear, because that would have embarrassed her and then she would have stopped and that would have made her unhappy. Right?"

"So?"

"So...despite the fact your mother occasionally acts like she has my father's power, she doesn't. You can't hide anything from him, even the stuff that would make him unhappy. It's—it's better this way, Seth. If I'm here, they can just assume it's some weird Jacob-is-calling-to-me sort of thing. Rosalie would be willing to believe it and she could convince the others...that way it's his fault, not theirs. They won't suspect I've started thinking they aren't...perfect."

"Is it?"

"Is what?"

Looking faintly horrified, Seth asked, "Is this some weird Jacob-is-calling-to-you thing?"

"No. Jacob can do whatever he wants. However he wants. I just don't want to hurt my parents anymore than I have already. And it will hurt them. I can't—I keep thinking these horrible things about them and I can't stop." Leah never liked my family and Jacob loved them because I needed him to. Seth loved them because he wanted to, which is why I had to ask, "Doesn't it ever bother you thinking about how they killed people and are too self-absorbed to really care?"

"Be kind of boring to be around them if all they did was feel guilty all the time. Kidding," Seth joked. His voice turned uncharacteristically serious. "Sometimes, I guess. But they've done a lot for me. And it's like...the first time your dad told me about him going off and killing evil people. All I could think about was...well, how could he be sure? A hundred percent, completely, you're-dead-now, kind of sure? Sometimes you think things...things you wouldn't ever do, but you think them and...I guess what I mean is, who gave him the right to judge?"

"How dare he think he's better than everyone else," I completed with an ironic smile. "Are you trying to tell me something, Seth?"

"You said it, not me." He smiled, but then visibly cringed when the screaming built to a crescendo. "I've got to get out of here," he muttered. Backing away, he told me to, "Just think about it. They kind of love you like crazy."

"Crazy is right," I agreed, staring after him as he went down the stairs. Was he right? Was it simply not my place to decide who had atoned enough, who had been punished enough? But then again, the idea of justice couldn't be tossed aside that casually. Someone had to decide. Since I loved them, wasn't it my duty? Or did loving them exempt me?

I went back inside Leah's room and followed Seth's instructions. The groaning had started up again, but the earplugs, earmuffs, nose plug, pillows and blanket did help somewhat. Plus, I was exhausted. Inside my sightless, soundless, scentless pillow prison I quickly fell asleep.

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TBC…


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Limited Internet access this past while means I'm a lot slower than usual. The fact I have gotten to the point where I can no longer put off schoolwork also isn't helping. But I'll get around to everything, eventually. Thanks for your patience.

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Chapter 33

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When I woke up, Shelia was inches away from my face.

After I almost fell off the bed and she caught me, I managed to calm my racing heart. "Don't do that," I begged. Her hair was wet and she was dressed in some of Leah's clothes—a bit baggy, but a decent enough fit—as she shrugged.

"Morning."

I could only tell because I could read her lips. Slowly realizing how ridiculous I must look, I pulled off the earmuffs and the other devices from my ears and nose. Then I said, "Good morning to you too. Did you sleep well?"

"Not at all." Jacob would not have approved of her broad grin, but it made me giggle. Without the dirt, she was much prettier. Or maybe it was just afterglow. As she stretched out across the bed, she announced, "I had a very nice night."

"I heard. You could have tried to keep it down."

"It would have been less enjoyable. I did not believe you, before, about the wolves. I did not think they would heal faster than we do. I apologize."

"How many times did you bite him?" I sighed.

"Only twice. I was careful and he said he did not mind. In the middle is much better than after, I discovered."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Even Father would have been impressed. Your wolves have a very quick recovery rate."

It took me a moment, even with her amused grin, but I got it. Then I hit her with a pillow. "I did not need to know that about Embry."

She giggled, far too pleased with herself to care. "Jacob is probably the same way."

"Shut up," I said, hitting her again. "Did you even bother to learn his name before you attacked him?"

"He told me all of them. But you told me everything I needed to know, before. He is a dog, like me," she said happily.

"Shelia? You're part vampire."

This time she was the one who hit me with pillow. "Stop being silly. I know that. But he is...loyal, you said. Always loyal. Dog. Perfect."

A rather dreamy look crossed over her face. For a second I was irrationally jealous, of that simple feeling, but I was speaking the truth when I said, "I'm glad you're happy with him. And I'm very glad you're an imprint, too. I really didn't want you to go."

She sat up suddenly, forcing me upright as well. Her face was surprisingly serious. "Nessie, I am not going to stay. I already talked to Sakhet. They forgive me. They are waiting for me."

"What?"

"They have been staying with your parents since a week ago. Embry is going to drive me back as soon as I finish saying goodbye."

"Goodbye?" My drowsy, happy mood snapped abruptly. "You're leaving me?"

"I cannot stay," she said as her fingers interlaced with mine. "I—can you see me in a store? If someone came up behind me, startled me—Nessie, I would kill them. Not for you, or him, could I stop myself. I am not all better, not yet. Our sisters have much to teach me still."

"Embry can't leave." Jacob wouldn't forgive me for that. _I_ wouldn't forgive me for that.

"He is not leaving. I am not letting him travel with my sisters," she snarled, just a little bit. "Embry understands. We write and talk. He waits, if he wants. I will come back when I am better and if I am very lucky, he will want me still."

"He's letting you go?"

"I can get better if I go, so, yes. He does not want people to get hurt any more than I do." She kissed my cheek. "It is good this way. If I go back, I will teach Sakhet something new. Teach them like you taught me. We can all be vegetarians together."

"That's good," I said without much enthusiasm. Logically, she was right to go. She was still dangerous, too apt to revert to kill/be killed mode if the mood struck. But I wanted to beg her to stay anyway.

"I will come back. Before you stop...forever, I come back. And we talk like before. I love you. I will not forget that."

"I just really liked having a friend with me," I admitted.

"Me too. Do not forget me?"

"I don't think I could if I tried. I love you, too, sister."

I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly, my strange, foreign completely familiar sister. When she pulled away, I gave her the brightest smile I could, so she would not remember me crying like a child. It was as she walked away that I realize, "Did you talk to me properly this whole time?"

"I have to practice," she shrugged from the doorway. "You will correct me if I am wrong, yes?"

"Sure. But if he said not to—"

"He said it was sweet," she said with that same silly smile. "But I do not want to embarrass him. Outside too much already."

"Goodbye," I said one last time. I could let a sentence fragment go, just this once.

"Goodbye," she echoed and was gone.

I climbed out of bed and set about looking for some clothing. Since I was half a foot shorter than Leah, and nowhere near as muscular, there wasn't much that fit me. In the end, I just pulled a baggy sweater over my head and headed downstairs.

Jacob and Leah were at the counter, talking quietly as they worked to make breakfast. I greeted them with a bright, "Good morning. Sleep well?"

"Your friend came _this_ close to death," Leah informed me.

"Not that we're bitter," Jacob said, rubbing his tired eyes, "But she's never going to be allowed back in this house. So, you wanna help us make pancakes?"

"Sure," I agreed. "What can I do?"

As Jacob instructed me on how to flip a pancake properly, Leah prepared the bacon. As always, they easily slipped into the routine of mocking each other. While I was amused, their stories sometimes stretched believability.

"It's not possible that he ruined yogurt," I informed Leah.

"You would think that," she said. Jacob, wearing a look of fake outrage, threw one of the tomatoes at her. Her shriek was rather impressive; she scraped the crushed fruit off her shirt and threw it back at his face.

When I giggled, Jacob pretended he hadn't been about to pour the pancake batter down her shirt. He settled for whipping the dishtowel at her rear, before regally asking if I was ready to try another pancake. Despite having helped Esme in the kitchen sometimes, it turned out I had abysmal culinary proficiency. My poor pancake ended up in three different pieces when I tried to flip it.

"Oops."

"She can sneak across international borders, but she can't flip a pancake," Leah teased. "I'm impressed."

"Jacob made it too big."

"Did not," he said. Then he laughed and managed to save it, somehow. "You just need more practice."

"And some hand-eye-co-ordination would be nice," Leah added.

"Bet I could still hit you two with the spatula."

"You could try," Leah allowed, and she and Jacob laughed as I went back to fretting over the pancakes. I would succeed. Eventually.

In fact, I managed to flip only two properly. The werewolves didn't care, just 'glued' the pieces together with some more mixture and made fun of me. It was good, seeing them together again. Less good, when we all sat down to eat and Leah's face turned somber.

"You have to talk to us," she demanded.

"We said after breakfast," Jacob reminded her.

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind. Now she has to stay, if she wants to eat."

I pouted. "I should just run into the forest and survive on blood. I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad. Now you're going to tell us what you're problem is and we are going to fix it. If you still want to stay here after that..." Leah broke off and I was happy to note that they didn't look very pleased at the prospect of me leaving. "...we'll let you. But you can't stay unless you try and talk to us."

"You won't be able to help."

Jacob took the challenge. "Try us."

I picked at my pancakes for a moment. How did the werewolves eat this? It was disgusting, nothing like the perfectly fluffy pancakes my family mass-produced on my whim. Funniest thing was that I loved both. Maybe that's why this was all so hard. But I did as they asked.

I told them.

They listened without any interruptions, which I think was a first for them. They listened as I explained them all the different tortures the hybrids inflicted on their mothers and how little anyone bothered to punish us for it. They listened and kept looking at each other, silently conferring. They listened and when my voice started to crack, they got up as one and came over to hug me.

"And I don't get how it's okay," I cried from between them. "She loved him so she _died_ to be with him? She loved me and suddenly it was a good idea to have her ribs cracked and her...spine broken and her...her body chewed apart? How does that make sense? How can we say we love her if we allowed that? I killed my mother." It was such a relief to say aloud, I did it again. "I killed my mother. And she forgives me. They all forgive me. What's _wrong_ with my family?"

"You rather they'd hate you?" Jacob asked quietly.

"Yes."

I would have said yes from then until eternity, if I could just have them look at me with something other than adoration. I wanted to see the accusation, the anger—I had killed her. Why couldn't they be upset about that for one second? I had taken a human life and someone should care!

"Nessie," Jacob said slowly, "I would try and yell at you just to make you feel better, but I really don't want to make you cry harder. So I'm just going to tell you that we can't make you forgive yourself...but you should."

"Martyrs are only attractive when they've been carved out of marble," Leah couldn't help adding.

"Shut up," I mumbled, still poking away at the pancakes. "I just...why haven't we bothered to atone for what we've done to her?"

Leah laughed, but this time it wasn't mocking. It was sad. "Oh, sweetie, sometimes you don't get to do that. Sometimes...you just have to suck it up and move on. There is no 'making up' for it."

From my other side, Jacob added, "No matter what you do, you can't undo what's happened. It just doesn't work that way. But we all move on, because we all do it." He brushed the tears off my cheek. "But were going to love you anyway, the way they do, the way your mom does. We love you even if you aren't perfect. You know that, right?"

"Why?"

"Because you say funny things like that," Leah said.

Jacob said, "And because sometimes even really smart people make mistakes. I know this is hard to believe, but even _I_ make mistakes."

I giggled, like Jacob intended, but before I could respond, Seth walked into the kitchen. "Do we have anything to eat? I'm starving."

"What's the point of having a girlfriend if she doesn't feed you?" Leah snapped, furious. It went right over her brother's head.

"She did," Seth shrugged. "But I'm still hungry. Do we have any pizza left over or did you guys eat...?" Seth stopped searching through the cupboards long enough to look at us all. "I'm interrupting something."

"No," Jacob said in his sarcastic voice. Fiddling with the top of the box of cookies, Seth looked towards the exits, trying to figure out how to get out of here without making the situation worse. It was far too late for that, for Jacob ordered, "Sit."

"I'm not going to like this," Seth realized. But he listened to his Alpha.

"Despite the fact we practically have a town holiday devoted to Seth, he screws up all the time. Like right now, for instance," Jacob began.

"It's not my fault I thought you two were too content in your dysfunction to try and help her."

"And right then. Then there was the time he brought his date to the place where his recently ex-girlfriend worked. And the time he bit his grandfather even though he was a little too old to be doing that. Oh, and the time he made Colin cry because—"

"She gets it," Seth muttered. "Why don't we do you talk about all the crap you aren't proud of, instead? Remember that time you broke Leah's boyfriend jaw, Jake? That was awful, but hilarious."

"You broke his jaw?" I demanded.

The two older werewolves were glaring at Seth, who added, "Accidentally."

"How can you accidentally break someone's jaw?"

"You would be surprised at the number of ways it's possible," Jacob muttered.

I glanced at Leah, who just said, "It was an accident. If it hadn't been, I wouldn't be able to be talking to him right now. And since I am..."

"Was it Ricky?" I asked. "Because he was sort of annoying."

"Thank you," Jacob said, vindicated. When Leah glared, he added, shamefaced, "Though it still doesn't mean I meant to do it."

"Yes, he did," Seth mouthed.

Leah was evidently unpleased with the topic of conversation, because she brought the conversation down, fast. "Since it's my turn, I guess I should bring up the fact you aren't the only person in this room who managed to commit parent-icide."

"Jake's actually the only one here who hasn't accidentally managed to off a parent," Seth said, gently forcing his sister to share the burden.

"Not exactly true," Jacob said. "If I had taken better care of him, instead of letting him eat all that crap all the time..."

Leah looked annoyed at the interruption and yet, somehow, still sympathetic. I could feel her and Jacob's clasped hands against my back as she began to talk. "So _we_ might not be able to understand what's going on in your head, exactly, but we've got a pretty good idea. I feel like I should warn you now that, well, when you get all bitter and angry, people don't really like that."

"And mopey and whining isn't that great either," Jacob added. "And chipper and always happy sort of makes people want to punch you."

"Repeatedly," Seth said. "Unfortunately."

"Is it possible for you three to be serious for five seconds?"

"Hey," Leah said, forcing me to look at her. "You want us to get all serious? We can do that. What you're going through now, it sucks. And we could tell you a hundred really wise things that we've mostly stolen from self-help books and the like, but you aren't going to listen to us. Not for a long while, because right now all you can hear is that voice in your head going 'I killed him' and it's really hard to hear anything over that. And we'd tell you that we love you, but that will just piss you off, because you're a freak, a murderous monstrous freak—and how can anyone in their right mind love that? And we'd tell you that you're wrong to think that way, and you just won't give a damn, because at least when you're torturing yourself about how awful you are, you aren't remembering the way they looked, in that moment, where they looked the same as always, except they were so pale, so old even though they weren't, not yet...so not them that you can't ever forget it."

Leah forced herself to smile, but there were tears in her eyes that matched mine. "That sounds about right," I admitted as I leaned into her. "How do I make it stop?"

"Besides becoming a crazy psycho bitch? I ate a lot of ice cream," she said. "And I cried a lot and made a lot of people miserable. And then time passed and I stopped crying as much. And I got myself a new pack and the distraction helped. And a long time later..." she took a deep breath and gave her brother a tiny smile, "I realized my idiotic, immature, loser younger brother was right. Dad wouldn't have wanted me to waste my life feeling miserable. He loved me and it was the least I could do for him, to be happy the way he wanted me to be."

"Just like that?"

"Oh, this was years later. I was sort of scary until then."

"Just a lot," Jacob muttered.

"You can take all the time you want," she told me, "All the time you need. But she wants you happy. She's even around to tell you that, so you don't even have my excuse, where I could pretend I didn't know that. And you owe her everything, so the least you can do is what she wants."

I poked the pancakes some more. "I still wish I just hadn't done anything."

Jacob's arms tightened around me. "We tried talking her out of it, you know. Me and your dad. Not because we didn't want you, but because we were scared she'd get hurt and—"

"You should have tried harder," I snapped.

"That would have required burning Blondie to pieces and tying your mom down," Jacob said flatly.

"She could have been dangerous. Vampires are dangerous. She could have—you should have thought of something."

"I tired. You think I didn't try? I did some pretty low down disgusting things to try and get her to stop. Nothing worked, because this life she has now is what she wanted. It's what she wanted, Nessie. Don't feel bad about that."

"Just because she's an idiot for wanting it in the first place..." Leah added. "You shouldn't feel guilty. Just be glad you got your brains from your father."

I ignored Leah in favor of what Jacob was saying. "Nessie, your mom wanted you more than anything in the world. And right after that, she wanted to be a vampire. And you gave her both things. Why would anyone be mad at you for giving your Mom what she wanted most in the world?"

I think that was the reason no Cullen ever bothered to hate me for what I had done. Mother was happy—extraordinarily so. As wrong as my actions had been, her countenance never even remotely hinted that she resented what had been done to her. Quite the opposite. She rejoiced in it. Could I really hate my family for celebrating Mother's happiness? Just a little bit…but hopefully the werewolves had said enough to stop my treacherous thoughts. I knew the world wasn't fair. Now I just had to get myself to accept it.

"Do you think...I have a lot of stuff to think over so could you two take me to the Space Needle? So I have more time?"

They were surprised, but agreed. Jacob couldn't quite remember going and I lied through my teeth and begged. They had just decided it couldn't hurt when Embry burst through the kitchen.

"I love you," he declared, dropping to his knees in front of me.

"Get away from her," Jacob demanded, kicking at Embry. He didn't even seem to noticed, just said, "I owe you one. More like a hundred, but I'm kind of broke at the moment but—anything you want."

"It's fine, Embry. Just treat her properly."

"Of course," he said. His voice made it clear that it wasn't an option—it was his own personal imperative. Pulling another chair from the table, he demanded, "So you need to tell me more about her."

With more than minimal whining, Jacob and Leah excused themselves from the table. Since they had managed to give me an entire motivational speech while eating breakfast, they were finished, anyway. Leah promised to find me some clothes, while Jacob said he just had to make sure the car was working.

As soon as they were gone, I informed Embry, "You should take the pine needles out of your hair before they notice."

Embry blushed a little, without looking at me, but defended himself, "The car's clean. He won't care. And I can take a hit."

"You shouldn't encourage him to keep getting into violent altercations. It's a nasty habit that he should try and stop." As much as I disliked Ricky...well, really.

"Who are you? His mother?" Embry chortled.

"She always sounds like that," Seth said absently, trying to retrieve the last cookie out of the bag. His hand seemed to be stuck in the box, for he began frowning at it. "You know, Nessie, it's not your job to take care of him."

"I know."

"Do you? Just because he acts like he needs it...he doesn't want you to take care of him."

"So that's why he gave me a ring?"

The two werewolves might have looked stunned but I couldn't stop the smile. Thinking about being Jacob's wife was just too funny.

"That's just a little creepy, kid," Embry announced.

"Everything about my life is just a little bit creepy. Half-vampire, remember?"

"You're not creepy," Seth declared. "You're just...you've never seen Quil and Claire have you? You should. It's—you should."

"And we should not tell Jake," Embry warned. He did not look comfortable at all with the words coming out of his mouth, but out they had come.

"So we won't tell Jake." They looked from each other to me, Seth asking, "What do you say?"

"Okay...sure." I was reluctant to agree, and not just because the two of them seemed afraid of upsetting Jacob. There was always the chance I wouldn't like what I saw. But I plastered on a smile and asked, "Do you two want anything from the Space Needle?"

They declined and I went upstairs to see what clothes Leah had found for me.

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TBC…


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: So I didn't reply to last chapters reviews because this site hates me and honestly I just wanted to move on and post this chapter. But to clarify:

Seth wasn't calling Quil/Claire creepy, just mentioning that Nessie should see the two of them interact for reasons that will become clear next chapter. The ring Nessie was referring to was the promise ring Jacob gave her in BD. All three of them would say he gave it to her as 'I'll be there for you' type thing, which is why she was making a 'joke' about it being a sort of engagement ring. For obvious reasons, Embry and Seth weren't laughing.

Also, if the end seems vaguely familiar: 1 Corinthians 13:4-7.

And in the rush to post this I forgot: Special thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter even though it was't easy!

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Chapter 34

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The day at the Space Needle was just as wonderful as I had expected. Jacob and Leah teased one another—and me—constantly, threw food at each other and unfortunate tourists, and engaged in frequent and oftentimes inappropriate physical contact. It was wonderful. They would be okay without me...and I didn't belong with them. On the way home, I asked them to please drop me off at the Cullen residence.

Not that they made me feel like I was a fickle, unthankful wretch—like they should have—but I could tell they were a little disappointed. Yet Leah said okay and Jacob didn't even bother slowing down to a reasonable speed (that may have had something to do with the fact his car couldn't handle radical speed changes, but the fact remained he didn't hesitate).

All too soon we were pulling into the driveway and the car stopped.

"This is us," Jacob said causally. We were at the very end of the driveway and the two of them got out. He opened the door for me, but I couldn't make myself exit the car. "Come on, Nessie," he said, "If you don't come out willingly, Leah might just drag you out by your hair."

She laughed—it was so fake, it made everything a hundred times worse—but then she opened the other car door. As close as we had gotten...I wasn't going to put it past her. I hurried out of the car, towards Jacob.

"Do you want us to come in with you?" he asked.

There was nothing but concern for me in their faces, but I shook my head. "It would hurt their feelings too much."

"He didn't ask if they wanted us to come in," Leah pointed out. "He asked if you wanted us to stick around."

"Not to encourage me to be selfish or anything..."

"Spare us the self-loathing and just invite us to come along."

"I have to do this myself," I whispered. "Thank you, but I—I really have to do this myself."

"We get it," Jacob reassured me. "Come here." He pulled me to him, hugging me tightly, which somehow seemed to suck the strength right out of me. It got even worse when I stepped back an inch and Leah somehow got her arms around me, too. When they pulled back, I had a hard time staying where I was. I just wanted to follow them back to La Push. What a little coward I was!

"Good luck, kid," Leah said. "And be good."

"No sex, no drugs, no biting," I assured her. With a last look wave, they got into the car. Then they were gone.

And I was alone.

It didn't matter if Seth was right or not, if I couldn't be the one to judge them worthy of forgiveness or not. I _needed _him to be right. Even if I didn't completely forgive them, I couldn't stay away from my family. I loved them far too much. So I was going back and I was going to do whatever I had to in order ensure I was as accepting of them as possible.

It might not be easy, but I would make it work. And if I could, I would make it up to them. I took a deep breath and headed up the drive.

The door was opened the second my finger pressed the doorbell. Father must have heard me coming. He hadn't come himself. He had sent Mother instead, just as beautiful and vibrant and _dead_ as always.

"Renesmee?"

Her voice was muffled against my hair, but it was still easy to hear the relief in her voice. Unconscious love permeated every syllable—it had to be unconscious for she knew how much I hated that name. The name she, not Jacob, had given me. That was something, at least.

"Yes, Mom. It's Renesmee. I'm home now."

She made a rather painful sound. I was sure her face was pinched, the closest vampires could get to sobbing. As I apologized, she just kept holding me tighter. Behind her, I could make out the various figures of my family, slowly assembling behind her. Or most of my family. Rosalie was conspicuously absent and when I caught Emmett's eye, his apologetic look let me know she wasn't just off on vacation somewhere. She was probably in her room—and she probably wasn't going to come down. Ever.

Luckily, my mother still hadn't let go, so I could hide my tears in her hair. There was a hand on my shoulder, one with a pianist's long, thin fingers. I grabbed hold of it, drawing my father into our hug as best I could, with Bella clinging so tightly. _I'm sorry_, I said over and over and hoped it was enough.

"Bella," Edward said eventually, "I think Renesmee has something she wants to say to everyone."

"Okay," Bella said, slowly disengaging. Edward already knew what was going on, but I had to find the strength to tell the rest of them.

When Bella let go of most of me—she still clutched my hand like she was afraid I would disappear if she let go completely—I tried to say as clearly as I could: "I wanted to apologize. I—I'm sorry. There's no excuse for what I did, leaving you like that. I can only offer that I overreacted. I wasn't prepared to think of you as anything less than wonderful, which is my fault, not yours. I should have turned to you to help me handle it—I'm sorry I didn't. I can only offer that I won't do it again. I'm here to stay, if you'll have me back."

"Excellent," Alice said, hugging me tightly. "We'll have a welcome home party on Friday! And then your sweet sixteen can be the week after. It might be a little delayed but..."

I let her prattle on, knowing I wasn't supposed to have an opinion on the various decorating schemes she was considering. It was her way of showing she was glad I was back, and I accepted gratefully. She pushed me into Jasper's arms after a while, where he welcomed me back in his own way. As he hugged me stiffly, waves of relief, of love washed over me. I didn't need him to explain. He was showing me exactly what they felt—and there was no reprimand in there. They were too happy.

Emmett lifted me into the air, until I giggled like I was a child. "Still a shrimp," he complained.

"Look who's talking," I shot back. "Being taller than Dad doesn't make you tall."

He pretended to growl, then threatened to squeeze me to death. Once, I had overheard him consider platform shoes in an effort to assert his manliness in the face of the werewolves, who considered 6′5" average. In the middle of the crushing hug, he whispered, "Rose is glad you're home too. She just needs a little time."

"Thank you. Tell her I missed her," I said back and he promised he would.

Carlisle and Esme welcomed me back in a more subdued, yet no less sincere manner, placing kisses on my cheeks over and over until, into I couldn't feel them. Then I was placed back into my mother's arms.

That's where I stayed for the rest of the day, as they showed me the new additions they had made to the house, the different accomplishments they achieved, the varied diversions they had employed in my absence. The gaiety was unforced and I tried to submerge myself in it, but I wasn't always successful. After they all watched me eat dinner, Dad took me for a walk. It was just the two of us, alone in the forest.

We stayed quiet for a long time, just walking. Mostly, I focused on what Shelia had taught me, all the tracking techniques she had shown me, the different ways to tell if something was edible, the way to separate smells in your head...

"She thinks very highly of you," he said.

It wasn't his fault he couldn't help pulling that knowledge from her head, but my response held a bit of a reproach, anyway: "She told me that, herself. I—I'm sorry."

"I can't help it."

"I know. I just—sometimes I wish I could keep things to myself. Especially now that I'm getting older. When you find out some of the things Shelia told me, you'll take it even worse than Jacob but—I should know these things, even if you shouldn't know I know these things."

My speech might have been incoherent, but my Father knew exactly what I meant. Unfortunately.

"I knew we shouldn't have let them leave so easily," he grumbled. "What does she mean, teaching a child—"

"For my body to reach this stage of development, I have to be producing hormones equivalent to a normal teenager. Which means my brain chemistry is following suit. And I can't help that. And I really liked not having to apologize for what I can't help all the time."

"I don't want you to feel self-conscious. I also don't want you thinking about boys until you're a hundred." He chuckled at my horrified expression. "I understand it's a little extreme. Maybe your mom could erect a shield around you, too? At least until your hormone levels stabilize."

That was what I had been hoping for. Bella could do this easily and this way I wouldn't have to focus on the fact I loved them all the time to keep the accusations away. If we could pretend it was for hormonal reasons, so much that better. I attempted a joke instead.

"The ways your hormones have stabilized?" He looked confused, so I unfortunately had to explain, "I sleep a room away from you two. And I have superpowers."

"Oh." If Edward had been human, he would have been redder than our hair. As it was, he looked as disturbed as a vampire could. "I see. I'm very sorry about that."

"She's your wife. You shouldn't have to apologize. It's just that the over-sharing you do with your non-biological siblings does not work for your daughter."

"I guess we're going to have to do our best to ignore each other, then."

We could only hope it worked out better than the last time he had to ignore a woman with chocolate brown eyes.

"Renesmee? I did try to distance myself from her. I know it is no excuse, but I simply could not live without her. I was hoping...no, that's not true. I knew when I came back that I could not avoid changing her. I should have stayed away. I'm very sorry I was so weak."

I slipped my hand into my father's, and leaned my head on his shoulder. "Me too. And now I'm going to thank you, for coming back, because I'm very glad I was born."

"Are you? Even though we are—we have killed many people."

And pretended their crimes did not matter and acted selfish and thoughtless and lived their lives thinking only of their own pleasure...

"I guess you're a little more human than you thought."

We sat down in the earth, watching the sunset through the trees. Dad's hand was cold in mine, since I was so used to the werewolf heat, but it was as soothing as the Clearwater's bathtub had once been. It was good to be home, even if it wasn't the glorious palace I had always thought it to be. Yet, somehow, it felt more welcoming than before. I no longer felt guilty for being allowed to stay.

"Is Mom busy yelling at Jacob while we sit out here?" I asked, eventually.

"Possibly. That was her intention, for not warning us you were coming back."

"I wasn't sure I was going to," I admitted. "But they did push me to return."

"Then I would say we should go back and stop Bella from calling...except Leah will probably answer the phone."

"Definitely safer if we stay here."

"If you ever need some time away from us, just let us know." The words came out of his mouth slowly and it was easy to hear how it much it hurt him to say. But he offered, because he was my father, because he loved me. Such a silly thing, love. "Jacob can take you in for a while and even Sakhet left a standing invitation for you to join her, if you wanted. I used to hate this life. I can't be upset with you for doing the same."

"Why did you stop?"

"I had your mother. And you. As sacrilegious as it may be, what do I need heaven for when I have you?"

"Your little angel," I muttered. The werewolves had said they would love me no matter what; I was almost a little afraid of my family's response.

"Anything they can do, we can do better."

"You're doing it again."

"I can't help it, when you're thinking such ridiculous things."

"I really don't see how you could blame me for being a little self-conscious. After a hundred years, you went and fell in love with the first woman whose mind you couldn't read. The first woman you could delude yourself into thinking was perfect. No wonder I have a complex."

He laughed at me. My father laughed at me. Then he kissed my forehead, and told me, "Your mother is a trouble magnet and you are always demanding answers, to everything. It's a lot of work keeping up with the two of you. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Stop being all mushy," I complained as I hugged him.

We went back eventually. By virtue of Bella's pale face and rather wild eyes, I summarized Leah had been the one to talk to her. In the interests of keeping peace, I begged my mother to teach me how to cook meat and potatoes just the way Charlie liked them. It seemed that Edward really had asked her to put up a shield, because my father did not demand to know why I had to make anything up to Grandpa.

Bella read me some of Tennyson's poetry before she tucked me in that night. Her voice was soothing, but I tried to keep myself awake, so she could see how much I appreciated being back. With her shield around my mind, I let my thoughts wander.

It had been unbelievably selfless, what my mother had done. To give her life for the child she didn't know was an incredible act of altruism. And yet—and yet. She had done it despite the protests of my father, of Jacob, of even Carlisle, not caring how they hurt. She had followed her chosen path and not given a thought as to how I would feel, knowing what I had done to her.

What was the difference between selfish and selfless, anyway? All she wanted was to hold me—she would give anything for that, as long as it didn't include considering my opinion on the matter. Selfish and selfless.

"You look so adorably tired," Bella crooned over me. "I can stop, if you want."

"Just one more." I didn't want her to leave just yet. She was my mother. "_The Lotos-Eaters,_ please?"

Somewhere in the fourth verse of Choric Song no.1 I fell asleep.

_All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave  
__In silence; ripen, fall and cease:  
__Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease..._

When I woke up, my room was dark. Bella must have slipped out to celebrate my return. I rubbed my eyes and glanced around, only to find Esme sitting on the edge of my bed. Being used to Shelia by now, all I did was blink.

"Can I help you, Esme?" I asked, voice thick with sleep.

"I'm sorry, dear," she whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to see you, again."

"That's fine. Do you want to talk to me?"

"Oh no, no. You should go back to sleep. You look exhausted. Don't worry about me at all."

"Esme?" I asked, sitting up. Unlike my other mothers, I felt no need to pretend with Esme. You could not disappoint Esme, even if you tried. So I could ask her what I was too afraid to ask Bella. "Why are you so happy to see me? I wasn't very nice, to leave you and you're being so...so very nice to me now. And I don't deserve it."

"Don't be silly, dear. We're just glad your back."

"But _why_?"

"Because we love you." Esme smiled, in the darkness, a smile I could see easily enough, and not just because it lit up her whole face. "We love you and we are very glad you're back."

"That simple?"

"That simple." To Esme it was. She spoke only her truth to me, a truth I couldn't and yet wanted to understand. "I'll just slip outside and you can get back to sleep."

I glanced around at me large bed. "Would you like to lie down instead? It would make me less nervous."

"Oh. All right," she said, climbing slowly into the bed with me. She had been wearing a regular dress, but she didn't seem to mind that it was getting wrinkled. Alice would probably get rid of it the next day—it turns out she gave everything to various charities, instead of making it vanish into thin air like I had believed for most of my childhood.

As Esme stroked my hair, I began to wonder if she had ever done the same thing for her son. No—he had been too young. I was so much older than he had ever gotten to be.

If she had not lost her son, she would not have thrown herself from the cliff and would have not joined our family. Somehow, as I closed my eyes and lay my head on her cold shoulder, I don't think Esme would have given up her son, even for everlasting life. Selfish or selfless? Did it matter? I never judged if happiness was selfish and misery almost certainly was. Let love exist simply the way it always had.

Let it be like Esme.

Patient.

Kind.

Persevering.

Because it was scary, to think of loving something that much more than yourself, to love it so much that everything else ceased to exist. Terrifying. Illogical. And yet...

It was very nice to fall asleep, knowing that kind of love was around me.

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TBC...


	35. Chapter 35

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Chapter 35

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My family took me back as if nothing had happened. They acted as I had merely gone on a long vacation, as if I hadn't broken their hearts, as if I hadn't wished I had never been born, as if I had not run to their mortal enemies at the first sign of trouble. They didn't care about any of that, they said, so everything went back to normal. Esme had been right. Sometimes, love was simple.

And then there was Rosalie.

My aunt did not talk to me, or around me, or through me. If I was present, she would simply leave the room. Since I had gotten back, she had yet to make eye contact. When she spotted me coming, she turned on her Jimmy Choos and marched in the opposite direction.

I should have left Rosalie alone. It served me right, that she no longer wanted to talk to me. That could be how sorry I was. But, simply speaking, I was tired of punishing myself. Besides, if love was why the rest of my family took me back so easily, why did Rosalie still hate me when she loved me most of all?

(My parents loved me because they wanted me—but Rosalie _needed_ me to complete her life and I had always hated disappointing her)

She was in the garage, working on the engine of a car, when I cornered her. Only her feet were visible, though she was wearing a thick jumpsuit that Alice would never have allowed her to wear inside the house.

And she was ignoring me.

"Rosalie?" Saying it a fifth time was rather pathetic, so I changed tactics. "Do you want some help?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Please?"

"Fido will let you help. Go bother him."

It was meant to be a slap in the face, but I was too excited at having something to go on to care. It seemed rather obvious, in retrospect. Rosalie would be jealous of Jacob. Just because I knew what her problem was, did not mean I had the solution. I started with the obvious.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—I went to him simply because he wasn't a vampire. It was hard to be away from away you."

"I'm still a vampire, Renesmee. So go back to the dogs."

"Jacob always comforts me, outside the family. I can't help that. He's always been there for me, always protected me. That's just the way it is."

From under the car, she slid out, blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Her hair was frizzy, which didn't even begin to match the wildness in her black eyes.

"Always?" she spat. "Are you sure?"

"From the moment he laid eyes on me."

"And what about before that? That just magically doesn't count?"

I sighed and sat down on the filthy ground in front of her. "Not even I can quite remember that far back. Besides, nothing could be worse than imagining me as his child, could it?" Or wanting me aborted or coming to attack my family...

"He was going to kill you."

"What?"

"Fido. Jacob. His precious Bella was dead, you were the cause and he came after me to kill you."

"Jacob?"

"Always there for you, except during those pesky murderous rampages."

Her tone was too gloating, her triumph too delicious for her story to be anything but the truth. And yet...I couldn't stand to hear a word against him.

"You're lying."

"Believe me, Ruh-_nez_-may, I know when a man—" the word tasted bitter in her mouth; she hated the lie in it "—looks like when he's forgotten anything besides his own desire exists, when all he wants is to see the blood pour—"

The words choked her. But she held my eyes.

So Jacob had wanted to kill me. It was easy to believe. He had loved Bella, then, and I had killed her, no matter how you looked at it. Jacob did not have Edward's knowledge of venom—even if he had known that resurrection would work, why would he rejoice that his beloved was turning into a hated leech? There was no guarantee I wasn't a vicious monster. It would be for the good of the pack, the good of La Push. And if the action made him a murderer...

"What is it you want me to do?" I asked. "I can't hate him, aunt, not even for you. I believe you—I can see it perfectly. Sometimes I see her corpse in my dreams and I hear them crying over her, desperate, miserable...I believe you, Rosalie. And I _can't_ hate him. Why do you think I went to him? I can always go to him, because I won't ever hate him."

"You fled from us and we raised you—"

"No more than he did. Please, Rosalie. It's different with Jacob. I didn't ask for it, but I can't change it. But I'm asking for this—please forgive me. I don't want to give you up. If you truly want me gone, you're going to have to drag me out of here."

"I'm twice as strong. It'll be easy to make you leave."

"I'll just keep coming back."

"I'm stubborn."

"I learned from the best."

I crossed my arms and sat on the ground, letting her try and stare me down. She might have had an advantage—vampires didn't need to blink—but just because I couldn't hold her gaze, didn't mean I was going to leave.

"I have forever," she warned.

"So do I."

As time passed, I couldn't help fidgeting. My biological processes were still functioning. Yet I stayed where I was because I was pretty sure if I left now, Rosalie would never speak to me again. So I waited. I waited for two hours and thirty-nine minutes until Rosalie remembered that however little I belonged to her, she was not going to let me go. I was all she was ever going to get.

"Alice is going to be upset. You have grease on your jeans."

"Does that—can I stay?"

"You don't even know what I'm doing."

"You can teach me."

"You don't like cars."

"You can teach me that, too."

"He hasn't done that for you, yet?"

"No," I admitted, trying not to smile. "Jacob hasn't. Would you like to?"

She tightened her ponytail and fiddled with the wrench in her hand. "You better change first or Alice really will stop speaking to me."

"You're not going to run away?"

"As if I would ever do anything Fido does," she said was a tiny smile. "I'll be here when you come back."

"I might be a few minutes," I cautioned. "I have to call Quil, first, to cancel."

"What?"

I mentally sorted through her various nicknames for the werewolves. "Uh...Sparky."

"I know—since when do you spend time with _him_?"

"Oh." I pushed my hair behind my ear and explained as best as I could, "Seth and Embry—Seth and Rover—said that it would be a good idea for me to see Sparky and Claire together, so I promised I'd help him babysit today. I'm sure he won't mind if I cancel, though."

As she thought over my proposal, a dangerous look came over her face. "No," she said, tilting her head, almost like Shelia did, listening to voices I couldn't hear. "No, that's fine. You should go. I remember your father telling me about this. It was a very good idea Seth had."

"Yes...why do you look evil?"

"I'm a vampire, Nessie. I can't help it. Run along now. Don't keep Sparky waiting."

"Oo-kay?"

Still a little uncertain, I got to my feet. Rosalie only smiled, dangerously, as I slipped away. But I did as she said, because our staring contest had taken longer than I thought and I didn't want to keep Quil waiting. Alice had left clothes on my bed, and a little smiley face note, so I left a return one taped to her bedroom door. I had barely finished my hair when Bella came to get me, to inform me Quil was here.

Quil's car was in a much better state than Jacob's, and I could shut the door without being worried that it would fall off. "Thank you for taking me with you," I said once I was inside the car.

"Thanks for coming with. They can be a handful."

"They?" A horrible fear filled me. "There's more than one?"

"Claire's got an older and younger sister, and a younger brother. They didn't tell you?"

"No. Did they tell you I'm horrible with children?"

At least, I assumed I was. I had never actually been around them for more than five minutes at a time. Mostly because...why would you want to?

"You can't be that bad."

"Yes, I can."

"That's fine, Nessie," he assured me, mostly to stop my rising panic, "I usually do this all by myself. Just try and help as much as you can." And then, to make sure he wasn't killed in his sleep sometime in the future, he added, "And you don't need to mention this to Jake."

It wasn't that Jacob would disapprove of me helping Quil babysit his imprint and her three siblings, but he would want to know why, especially since it was slightly dangerous, seeing Claire. Even if she didn't recognize me as her childhood playmate, her mother or sister might. Jacob would want to know and I was not going to hurt him by implying I was anything less than extremely honored to be his imprint. I _was_ extremely honored—I was just doing this because the other three members of his pack seemed to think it was a good idea and it was nothing to me to placate them.

Quil had cleared my participation with Claire's mother earlier in the week. I think she knew that nothing could distract her babysitter from the safety of her children, for she allowed him to bring the company, even though I thought it was very unprofessional of him.

When he introduced me to the children, they greeted me with bored expressions before attacking Quil like he was some sort of living, breathing jungle gym. He just laughed and carried all four of them inside (ages five to ten—oh my). I gave up trying to keep track of them all as Quil went around the kitchen making them an afternoon snack. He put me to work, spreading peanut butter on bread, but I was not efficient enough for the gaggle, for they teased me quite mercilessly and kept sticking their already dirty fingers inside the peanut butter jar. Then the little he-devil smeared his hands through my hair.

Quil just laughed, and carried him to the sink to wash up. Claire snatched the sandwich I had just made from my hands, but offered: "Do you want to play Princess with us? Quil plays terrible."

Never before I had understood Leah's desire for constant violence. I thought it stupid and immature how she always seemed to result to physical attacks. Now I understood. Poor Jacob was not going to have a pack after today because I was going to kill them all.

Very slowly.

The littlest monster pulled out plastic tiaras and the eldest insisted I was just as bad as Quil. I found myself very grateful to my first friend, for she ordered everyone around to cover up my incompetence and was so delighted by my beauty that she didn't care that I couldn't imagine anything at all. Instead, she turned me into their hardworking servant who would defend them from the big scary dragon—

"Quil!" she cried. "Where's Quil?"

"He's getting a band aid for your brother. They were playing ball—"

"Oh!" she giggled. "Let's play ball!" And then she grabbed me by the hand and tried to pull me outside. She would have succeeded too, if her sister hadn't grabbed my other hand.

"Why do we always do what you want?"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

It took Quil minutes to mediate between the two screaming girls, as I hunkered down in the corner and tried to catch my breath. Baby-munster slowly came up to me, hands behind her back, shy smile on her face.

I suppose they were cute in an evil-demon spawn sort of way. As long as they weren't yelling.

"Hey, sweetie. Is there something you want to play?"

"Fairies," she whispered, showing off missing front teeth. Did Hallmark sell children now? I found my icy heart melting, just a little bit.

"And how do we play fairies?"

"Fairy dust," she told me.

Then she took her hands out from behind her back and sprinkled me with glitter.

Needless to say, Quil did not say anything to me on the drive back, beyond a muttered, "Thanks for coming today."

"They're evil," I announced. "Pure evil. Could you drop me off at Jacob's?"

"The meeting's today. He won't be home for another two hours."

"I know."

Quil glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. My arms were crossed so tightly over my chest, I was bound to sprain something soon, and I had no doubt that my expression was murderous. I really didn't care.

"If you kill Seth, someone's bound to notice."

"Quil, I am a certifiable genius. If I wanted to kill someone, believe me, _I would get away with it._ Now, would you like to drop me off at Jacob's or would you like me to explain to you exactly how I feel right now?"

"To Jacob's it is," he muttered. The drive was twice as fast as it usually was, but he stayed in the driveway, even when I waved to him from the door. He should be worried about the safety of his friend. The door was unlocked, so I slipped right inside, without even a forced break to calm me down.

"Seth? Are you here?"

"In the kitchen," a voice called out. Of course. As if the werewolves realized there was another part of the house.

"Do you have any idea how—_Frank_?"

Because that's who the person sitting beside Seth was. Books were spread across the kitchen table, surrounding the two of them. He looked different, my old friend—his skin was better than before and he had gotten taller or broader or something. I was rather too embarrassed to stare too long, though I noticed he had yet another piece of metal in his ear.

"Hi," he answered. "You sparkle now?"

Seth was trying not to laugh, as he stood up. "Could you give us a second?" he asked Frank, before leading me back out to the living room.

"What happened to you?" Seth chuckled, not bothering to keep his laughter to himself.

"Shut up," I ordered. "You could have told me you were having company."

"You should have asked. Is that peanut butter in your hair?"

I slapped away his hand. "I had a very traumatizing experience this afternoon. Okay? It was awful. They kept screaming and Claire she—she doesn't—"

My voice cracked and Seth instantly looked contrite. "I'm sorry," he said, but it was too late.

"She doesn't know, does she? About Quil or anything...she doesn't know."

"No. She doesn't."

"Why hasn't anybody told her?"

"Do you really think an eight year old should have to figure out what this all means? _We_ don't even know what it means."

"_I_ was told."

"No you weren't," he argued. "You figured out something was up and you demanded an explanation. Before you were one, naturally. No one ever wanted to tell you, you just...you knew. But she doesn't. And so she treats him...differently than you treat Jake."

Like he was just any other adult.

And in some weird way that I would need more study to determine the cause of—and since I wasn't going to go back, it would have to remain one of life's unanswered questions—it helped him treat him like any other kid. A kid he was obsessively fond of, but a kid just like her siblings.

"He didn't even give her the biggest sandwich." I brushed my hair back, knocking glitter everywhere. "Why did you make me go?"

"I don't know. It was just different, so I thought you should see. You're always going on about alternate sources or something." Seth gave me a tentative grin. "Besides, you look sort of cute, all pink and blue and shiny."

"They made me colorful?" I sighed and had to admit, "I think he was right, not to tell her. She'll give him hell when she grows up and figures it out, but...it's better this way." She would never feel vaguely guilty for doing what I was about to do, like she was betraying Quil somehow. Not that the guilt stopped me. The world moved in twos and I was tired of being the freak. "Seth, I would like to point out you sort of owe me one now."

"Why do I not like the sound of that?"

"Just...don't tell Jacob, and disappear for fifteen minutes. Please?" I smiled, even as I began taking off my sweater. Most of glitter was on that, and the tank top I had underneath it was far more flattering.

"Since when did you become a walking hormone?" Seth demanded as I handed him my shirt and tried to fix my hair, somehow.

"This coming from the man who can't be alone for more than two months at a time."

"Yeah, but I come by that honestly from my mother. And losing my dad at such a young age was quite traumatizing."

"Please don't use pop-psychology in my presence. Just leave us alone?"

"Jake's going to kill me. I'm glad you care," he called as he turned to head up the stairs. It had been so easy to persuade him that I hadn't had time to panic. So I started panicking then.

"Wait. Where do I tell him you've gone?"

"I'm looking for some girly-thing inLeah's room for you. Anything else?"

"Do I look okay?"

"What part of Jake's going to kill me didn't you get?" he said, turning back around. I glanced at myself in the mirror, hoped the peanut butter wouldn't be too noticeable in the light of the kitchen, and then inside.

Frank was still by the table when I came back in, tapping his pencil manically against his textbook. When I entered, he stopped, though his foot began to tap instead. We had talked since I had been back, but it had mostly been on the computer, and just a bit on the phone. Face-to-face hadn't happened yet and I would have preferred to do it not covered in food. But I was part-vampire. I was half-extraordinarily beautiful. I could still be impressive. I hoped.

"Hi." Of all the insipid things for me to say... "How have you been?"

"Good. What happened to you?"

"Children. The emotional trauma is going to keep the therapists busy for years."

"My sympathies. Speaking of children...my brother recently set the cord to our toaster on fire. Not quite as impressive as your arts and crafts, but it did make loud noises."

We talked, my eye on the clock. It's not like I could just randomly show up at the Clearwaters house—Jacob was bound to be home one of these days. I couldn't go to Frank's house either...which is why, when I only had two minutes left I just came out with it.

"Are you ever going to ask me out?"

Frank blinked. "You would say yes?"

"Yes." Not to make me sound desperate, or anything, but facts were facts. "Why wouldn't I?"

He blinked again. Then again. "I'm sorry. I just hallucinated. I thought you said I could ask you out and there was a remote chance than you would say yes."

"I did. As a matter of fact, odds are actually in your favor."

"Wow. Sorry. You're going to have to give me a minute. I was thinking I had a better chance of getting hit by lightning."

"Odds are one in five hundred that you will struck by lightning in your lifetime versus the complete certainty that I will say yes. Your conclusion was incorrect." I leaned over the table and lowered my voice. "Not to rush you or anything, but Seth will come back soon."

"He said he'd give me twenty minutes, if you did show up. And since you did...I still have six."

I would have threatened to kill Seth, but really, if this was how he wanted to bribe me into being happy, it was fine by me. Because Frank was still talking, saying things I was very excited to hear.

"Would you like to do something with me on Friday night?"

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TBC...


	36. Chapter 36

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Chapter 36

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"I need a favor," I announced.

"Will either of us like where this is heading?" Leah asked, barely looking up from the accounts. From his position by the barbeque, Jacob simply asked, "Do we ever?"

"You make me sound evil," I complained. Perched on the railing as I was, basking in the sun, I had a good view of both their faces. It was the end of September and the three of us were together, enjoying one of the few days off the werewolves had gotten since I had been back. Jacob had even insisted on using the barbeque. It was perfect, and the perfect time for a strange request. "I'm not. I just need a favor."

"How long are you going to keep dodging?" Leah asked.

"Are you going to do it?"

Jacob snorted. "We aren't stupid. Tell us what it is first."

"But will you do it?"

"We really aren't going to like this, are we?"

"Just promise—"

"Nessie, just tell us."

Despite the number of times I had asked them to, the werewolves pointedly refused to call me Renesmee. Jacob wouldn't abandon the name he gave me, Leah thought Renesmee was a stupid name, Seth simply forgot he had agreed to the longer moniker, and Quil and Embry followed Jacob's lead. I was always going to be Nessie to them. And there was nothing I could do about it. It was sort of sweet.

Less sweet was Jacob making me say what I wanted. It would have been better if they had promised to help first. Because I didn't think they would agree—okay, I knew they wouldn't agree. But I was going to try anyway. Stranger things had happened. I had been born, hadn't I?

"I need one of you to kiss me. Or for you to kiss each other while I watch. The second would probably be better, if you don't want to get sent to jail."

Jacob laughed while Leah's mouth turned up in the corner, at least until she glanced up and looked at my serious face. "Jake..."

"What?" He turned one of the burgers, though his face turned a little paler than normal. "Is she being serious?"

"Really serious."

"It almost makes you believe in karma," Jacob sighed. "I should have been nicer as a kid."

"Is that a yes?" I asked.

"No."

"But it's not a _definite_ no?"

"It's the world's biggest no."

Leah added, "And a double the world's biggest no from me."

"Does that mean you're not going to help me?" I sighed, admitting defeat. "Maybe Shelia and Embry will. She'd come back if I said I needed her."

"And I'd break Embry's jaw," Jacob said cheerfully. "But go ahead and ask them."

"No fair."

"Not to continue this freaky discussion," Leah began, "But now I'm sort of curious. Why is it necessary for you to become some sort of voyeur?"

"No reason. You're burning the burger on the end," I informed Jacob.

"I think she's dodging the question."

"That was definite dodging."

"And worse, it was amateur dodging."

"I thought we had taught her better."

Leah put down the books and wandered over to the railing. Leaning beside me, she demanded: "Spill."

"Frank hasn't kissed me yet. Two dates and he has not kissed me. If he does not kiss me on the third date we have a problem and since I do not want there to be a problem, I have to kiss him. So I need to know how. Show me."

They had been nice, the first two dates. I privately thought nice was a little bit of an understatement, but my conclusions would not be very accurate since I had no similar point of comparison. While I was used to having someone's undivided attention, I was less used to having to work at maintaining it. I liked the challenge. I liked Frank, who could keep up the conversation no matter how academic I made it. And having someone around who was unsure as I was made for a refreshing change of pace.

Except he hadn't kissed me.

"He hasn't kissed you yet?" Jacob repeated. "I don't know whether to be glad or worried. What's taking him so long?"

"More to the point," I said, "What's taking me so long? I'm sixteen now and I still haven't been kissed."

"Six," Jacob said automatically, while Leah asked, "What's wrong with sixteen?"

"I'm ancient. And please? I'm sure by the time you were my age you..." her look made me trail off. I did value my life, after all. "Well, Jacob was busy kissing my mother and hanging around her all 'look at my well-developed body'. And I'm sure you weren't avoiding the opposite sex, either."

"I still can't believe she told you all that," Jacob sighed, even as Leah said, "I'll have you know I was almost fifteen before I had my first kiss."

It was Jacob who demanded: "Really?"

"Yeah. And if you try to say there's something wrong with that I will point out all the reasons that kissing Amy Cook on a dare in seventh grade does not count. Stupid slut."

"Shut up," he said, pushing her head away. He didn't put much effort and she easily dodged. He was too caught up in his thoughts. "Sam was the first guy you kissed?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Unlike some people, I don't just go around kissing people I don't care about. When I was sure, I kissed him." She stopped glaring at Jacob to look at me. "I hope you were taking notes on that. You don't have to kiss anybody unless you're sure you want to. You sure you really want to be making out with Brady's younger brother?"

"Frank is perfectly nice. So yes, I'm sure I want to kiss him. Do you know how hard it is to find someone to discuss the relationship between modernism and existentialism with?"

"Whew. Philosophy always gets me hot, too."

"Just because I'm not attracted to over-aggressive, high school dropouts—no offence, Jacob—does not mean there's something wrong with me." A horrible thought struck me. "Right?"

"I have dated some guys who graduated high school," Leah protested. "At least two. And shut up. Scholastic achievement doesn't mean anything."

"Apparently not. While Frank seems like an excellent potential boyfriend, he won't kiss me. Jacob?" I asked, as he stared at the burgers. "Why do you look guilty?" When he didn't look up at me, I began demanding: "Did you do something to him?"

"No."

"Why do you still look shifty?"

"I didn't—" Jacob rolled his eyes when he saw neither of us were going to stop glaring until he answered honestly. "I didn't say anything to him. Seth made me promise not to say anything to the kid, said he'd warn him off for me, if I just promised to leave him alone."

"Do we look stupid?" Leah demanded. "No way in hell my brother managed to threaten someone."

Jacob's voice got so quiet, I could barely hear it. "That's why I may have told Edward what the kid looked like."

"Jake..."

"You jerk! How could you?" I cried. "Do you have any idea—you know how scary my family can be. I'm surprised he even dares look at me." I felt the tears welling in my eyes and knew Jacob saw them too, by the remorseful look on his face. It was too late for that. I was going to spend the rest of eternity with virgin lips, because my family was insane. "No wonder he barely holds my hand. You had no right to tell Edward anything—it's only been a couple of dates and I just wanted to have someone outside all of you and you took that away from me. How could you?"

"Ah, Nessie, don't be mad," he said, trying to hug me. I slipped off the railing and moved away, silently begging Leah for help. She obliged, punching him in the arm.

"You're a dick, sometimes," she sighed.

"I know you two can't understand, but _I was a teenage guy_. He shouldn't be allowed near her unless properly threatened, otherwise he'll be thinking all sorts of things."

"Jake...knowing there was a whole pack of vampires out there didn't stop you from imagining Bella naked. And don't try and deny it—I had the dreams to prove it. Nothing you say is going to stop him from thinking it."

"I thought you promised not to bring up the whole Ella-bay ream-day ing-thay."

"You promised you were okay with this."

I sat down on the chair Leah had vacated and pulled my knees to my chest. "I speak pig Latin, too, overly-controlling jerk. And I know all about the dreams."

"Nessie," Jacob said as he knelt in front of me, "I wasn't lying when I said I was okay with this. I do want you happy with the kid. I just wanted to make sure he treated you right. The best way to do that was to lay out the proper way of treating you...and if a couple of really scary bloodsuckers wanted the honor, who am I to tell them they can't?"

Leah pointed out: "She's ten times stronger than he is. If he did something she didn't want, the only thing she would have to worry about is deciding how hard to kick his ass."

"Not helping, Leah," Jacob snapped. When he addressed me, it was with only loving concern: "I'd rather have you mad at me than see you hurt. You've got time. Too slow won't kill you. This way you can be the one to set the pace."

And he meant it. Completely. Jacob was one hundred percent fine with everything. It wasn't really his fault his genetic makeup required him to establish dominance over every person he met. I believed him when he said he wanted me to be happy with Frank.

I was just a six year old kid, to him. A child with a new toy that he would let me play with. As long as it made me happy, he wouldn't dream of taking it away from me. Deep down I think he was probably relieved, glad he had yet another reason to ignore my physical maturity. Nothing would please him more than to find out I would be a child forever.

Thankfully, Leah could see treating me like I was six wasn't going to work. She offered, "And I suppose I can tell you how to get him to hurry up."

"You said you waited forever to get kissed."

"Have you met Sam? He doesn't cross the street unless the light's green and sometimes when the crosswalk is broken, he just won't go. Clearly he wasn't going to fool around unless I...encouraged him a little."

Her smirk was mostly terrifying, though I suppose I could see how members of the opposite sex would find it appealing in a strangely twisted way. Jacob evidently didn't mind, what with the smile playing on his lips. Still, he stayed by my side. I supposed a little encouragement couldn't hurt.

"Before I can get him to hurry up, I have to get him to start. Which brings me back to my original point—I need to witness the proper technique. My family refuses to oblige me, except for Emmett and Rosalie and they start and then forget I'm there and I just really don't want to see that. So I need you two to show me how I should go about doing this."

"Watch movies," Leah said breezily. A bit of discomfort had entered her posture. I assumed she was considering the possibility, even if she was a little unwilling to think about it. Excellent.

"I did. In _Cruel Intentions_, they instructed me to practice on my friends. And since I don't know anyone my age around here...I'll settle for just witnessing the act in person. Preferably with less tongue than in the movie. That was just, sort of...a little too much."

"I cannot believe your taking relationship advice from celluloid."

"And books," I muttered, blushing just a little bit. I knew how dumb it was but at the same time... "Where else am I supposed get advice from? Shelia's the only friend I have, unless you count her sisters and it's been centuries since they were last in my position, so they're absolutely useless. And somehow I don't really feel comfortable walking up to someone, grabbing them, and holding them still while I figure out what to do."

"No wonder Embry's been so happy lately," Jacob muttered.

I liked happy Embry. Happy Embry sought out my company, making sure I was okay, but understood I didn't need another guardian. Happy Embry just wanted us to be friends, because it was a good idea to be friends with his girlfriend's friend. If we didn't get along it would hurt Shelia and that would make happy Embry unhappy Embry.

Plus, even as happy Embry, Embry could be counted on to accidently say things he probably shouldn't.

It had been good to hear that Leah's current boyfriend was not going to hold onto the title for very long. Even if it wasn't very nice of Leah to date him simply to placate her mother.

"So could the two of you help me? Please?"

"Nessie, there isn't a number high enough to describe how many levels of wrong that would be," Jacob said, turning his attention back to the burgers. "Just watch _Titanic_, or something. That's girly."

Leah couldn't help herself. "Yeah, stripping down and lying in front of them usually gets them to kiss you."

"Do you want to eat today or not?"

"You two aren't helping," I complained. "I'm going to ruin this and then I'm going to blame you."

"Just when I thought you were passed the whole 'blame Leah for everything wrong in your life' phase," Leah sighed. "Here we go again."

"I never blamed you. I just wished you'd adjust so there would stop being problems. And I did stop." Even if she had never admitted why she hadn't liked me. Maybe it was because I used to openly resent her company.

"These are almost done," Jacob said. "Do we have drinks?"

"I'll get them," Leah said, heading inside. "Do we need anything else?"

"Forks and knives."

Jacob sighed. "Come on, Nessie. They're burgers.

"I'm not getting you cutlery," Leah informed me.

"Then I'll get it myself." I had been eating with them for six years. By now, you would think they would have given up trying to force me to eat like them. Hamburgers just tasted better if you cut them into tiny pieces first.

I followed Leah inside, shutting the sliding door behind me. One last try couldn't hurt. "You really won't kiss Jacob for me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because the whole world doesn't exist to make you happy," she snapped. "Drop it."

"But why? If I can be with someone else I don't see why he can't—"

The pop can she held in her hand didn't survive the force she exerted. Carbonated soft drink ended up spraying everywhere. Including all over us. Which encouraged Leah to start cursing rapidly. And loudly.

"It's fine," I said, interrupting her tirade. The paper towels hadn't gotten wet, so I used them to try and dry myself off. It didn't work that well, and I was sticky underneath, so I was glad when Leah dragged us over to the sink to try and wash some of it off.

As I stuck my arm under the running faucet, Leah asked quietly, "Doesn't it bother you knowing this whole thing with Frank comes with an expiration date?"

"Everything comes with an expiration date." We simply had to fulfill our responsibilities before then.

"Feelings shouldn't."

I had to look up, to look her full in the face. I always had to and always would. It didn't bother me—the only thing I didn't like was how upset she looked when I did. Because while Jacob and I would end up quickly adapting, at the end, she wouldn't be able to. She wouldn't magically get better.

"I'm sorry. I never thought about it like that."

Understanding feelings had never been my strong suit.

"What?" She easily retreated behind sarcasm. "There's something out there you haven't thought about? Call CNN."

"Shut up," I muttered, hitting her with me hip. She bumped me back, so she could stand more directly in front of the sink. I let her push me away. It was easier to think if you weren't cleaning at the same time. "I don't want to just sit around waiting. And this might be my only chance to be with someone of mostly equal mental capacity."

She snorted. "It shouldn't just be about that, you know. It should be...being able to talk about all the dumb things in your head, too, all that stupid stuff that it would be too embarrassing to tell anyone else. And—"

"They're getting cold," Jacob called as he opened the door. "What's—what happened to you two?"

"You were right. They should make Coke cans stronger," Leah told him.

"It's about time you agreed with me. You guys need some help?"

"We're good. Don't eat too many before we get there."

He laughed, promised he wouldn't and then went back outside. Leah headed upstairs to grab us a change of clothes. I stayed by the sink, feeling terrible...at least until I turned my mind to the problem of what movie would give the best model of a first kiss.

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A/N: The original plan was to skip over the first kiss, like I skipped over the first date, but I'm starting to feel guilty about doing both. But that requires there be less Leah and Jacob in a chapter. Opinions?

Oh and when Nessie called Jacob a high-school dropout that was more in an I-think-your-intellectually-stunted than in a real he-failed-high-school way. In this story, Jacob graduated high school; he just doesn't act like it to Nessie's satisfaction.


	37. Chapter 37

Fufu: I had a whole explanation but it was just messing up everyone else. Confusion is okay at this point. The story is from Nessie's POV, so that's not something you can know for sure.

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Chapter 37

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There was a certain clichéd reassurance about the front porch. It had been done, countless times. There was no originality at all in the location, which was perhaps the reason it was so over-used. There was nothing about a porch, the same porch you walked passed every other day of your life without noticing anything about it, that could possibly distract you. The front porch it was.

Selecting the location dictated other decisions. It would have to come at the end of the date or at the very beginning. Since it was a little too awkward to kiss Frank the second I saw him, the end it would be. It would also be a good idea because the setting could perhaps allow him to infer my intentions. His involvement was essential to the whole process, after all.

Once those decisions had been made there was the small matter of making sure it actually happened—which meant removing various family members from the house. Their interference would be the fastest way to scare Frank away, so they simply couldn't be home.

Edward had denied speaking to Frank after he had read his thoughts and concluded he wasn't a serial killer. That hadn't stopped me from acting petulant, even though Bella had sworn he would never dare intimidate Frank, since she had begged him not to (my mother had dated a vampire and was therefore inclined to give me more social freedom than my father). I had simply assumed my father had gotten Jasper and Emmett to go in his place. I was going to have to apologize for that, later.

Right now...I was just hoping everyone had followed my instructions.

There was a benefit for the hospital tonight and everyone save for Rosalie and Emmett had gone. Despite my pleading, everyone agreed there had to be someone at the house. Carlisle and Esme would have been my preference, but Carlisle couldn't not go. Hopefully, Emmett kept Rosalie distracted. While she liked Frank and had encouraged my relationship to not-Jacob, she might change her mind if she heard us on the porch, not talking.

Keeping my thoughts distracted prevented me from worrying too much about what I had to do now that Frank was by my side, walking me from his car, our hands occasionally brushing as we moved alongside one another. The car was technically his friend's, but it was in much better condition than the Rabbit Jacob refused to abandon, and while it would have been safer if I drove, I hadn't picked a fight in deference to his masculine honor. It's not like I would get hurt in an accident and I should be able to see one coming enough in advance to prevent it.

Nothing drastic had happened, fortunately. We had eaten dinner in a cute little cafe and had a marvelous discussion on Sartre and Camus, before going to see the only foreign picture that the cinema at Forks had. I had spent most of the movie with my head on his shoulder, complaining bitterly, as the subtitles had been utterly inaccurate and had completely ruined the movie for me. I arrived home at a reasonable hour, with only one thing left to do.

Kiss Frank.

Too bad it wasn't that simple.

"Thank you for driving me home," I said, standing just in front of the door, making no move to go inside. Would it be too obvious if I took a step closer? Would the candy I had been compulsively sucking on all night still be flavoring my breath? Would I be able to do this with even a semblance of dignity intact?

Frank had been paying attention to me before—most of the night, in fact—but now his eyes were darting around. "Your place looks really nice," he observed. "Really, really nice."

I was less than a foot away, with something like seventy percent of my skin bared, despite the cold. He could pay less attention to the decor.

"It's great. So am I going to see you sometime this week?"

_Finally_, his gaze returned to me. "I've got a test Wednesday. I'll call you Thursday?"

"Okay," I said, standing there stupidly. I was a genius. Why was my head empty that moment? I just balanced on the balls of my feet and wondered if I could sound any dumber. "Well, good night, then."

"Good night," he repeated.

He took a step, but thankfully it wasn't off the porch. It was towards me.

_Finally._

I almost ruined the moment by pulling away and throwing one of those wild, screaming fits with strange dance moves that was usually the domain of crazed fans. Inside, that's how I felt. And that someone had torn out my belly leaving a big gaping hole where it used to be, where the breeze could rattle around freely, leaving the rest of me shivering violently. There was a moment where I worried about the state of my heart, because such rapid pulsating could not be healthy...and when I realized I couldn't recall the number of beats per minute of the average adult human heart while at a state of rest I began to panic.

Luckily, there wasn't enough room to allow me to escape. His hands were on my hips, gently, easy to break away from, even if I hadn't been able to break his hands with little to no effort. A little desperately, I tried to recall half of the information I had collected in the past little while on kissing. It didn't seem to be working. Acting like I was paying attention was probably a good start.

Paying attention might be even better. I exhaled and reminded myself I could do that.

Frank was in front of me, his arms around my waist, the two of us standing so close together I could feel most of his body alongside mine. I didn't mind, even though it was nothing like anything I had ever experienced. His body was softer, far more yielding, and though he had started accompanying his brother to the gym recently, his arms were never going to be as thick as a werewolf's. When I put my arms around his neck, I didn't have to reach as far as I usually did to hug a male. Frank just a little taller than Charlie and it made everything far more comfortable, now that I thought about it.

Okay, what next?

It would probably be a good idea to look at him, I scolded myself, instead of just staring at his collar bone. But when I looked up, he was looking right at me. I had to drop my eyes, just a little bit, staring at his lips instead while a furious blush spread across my cheeks.

"Nessie?" he said. "Is it—"

"Good," I squeaked out. I wanted to die, just a little bit. Stupid vocal chords. But Frank seemed to get the idea, because his lips descended downward.

I did two things as I waited for him to close the gap between us. One was remember how to breathe, and I must say I did that admirably, if not consistently. The second was to tilt my head gently to the right. Ninety to ninety-three percent of the population was right-handed (Frank was one such person) and those odds implied he would move to the right and this way the two of us could avoid having our noses collide.

That last bit of knowledge calmed me down. Just because I was going to be bad at this didn't mean I was a complete moron.

There was pressure against my lips, first, and then the feeling of external wetness. Was it supposed to feel so..._mushy_?

Refusing to allow myself to ruin the moment, I demanded my brain shut off. It didn't work as well as I had hoped, but it did allow me to become aware, for the first time, of the warmth that was spreading through my body, and the lightness I could feel in my breast, of the tingling in my belly.

It even allowed the part of me that could see an action and repeat it perfectly, eventually, to kick in. I started kissing him back.

It was..._nice._

Frank pulled away first and I panicked at that too, afraid I had accidently...I didn't even know what I was afraid I had done, just that an apology almost spilled out before I could stop it. Fortunately, Frank acted first.

His mouth split into a grin.

I almost collapsed in relief.

He didn't look disgusted or embarrassed for me or in a hurry to run away from my sloppy attempts at figuring out exactly what I was supposed to be doing. He just looked happy and it relieved me enough that I could smile back.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," he admitted, still holding me.

"Me too."

"I'll talk to you Thursday?"

"Yeah," I nodded as we slowly pulled apart. "Good night."

I held his hand until he was too far away and I had to let go. He was still staring at me, which is why he almost fell down the stairs. Bringing a hand quickly to my face, I tried to muffle my giggles, waving as he left, watching him drive out of sight. I was too happy to stop laughing and I hurried inside so I could celebrate in private.

Closing the door, I almost fell against it, my legs like jell-o. Giggling rather uncontrollably to myself, I gave a sigh of relief. Now that it was over...I sort of just wanted to do it again.

Finally, I pushed away from the door and went to find Rosalie. She would want to hear all the details. But it wasn't Rosalie I found in front of the television.

"Did I go to the wrong house?"

"Funny," Seth said from his position on the Cullen family sofa. "Was that you making that high pitched noise before?"

"No," I lied as I sat down beside him. "What are you doing here?"

Holding out the bag of chips towards me, Seth explained, "Emmett invited me over. Only then Rosalie walked in looking like...Rosalie, so he ditched me. I would have gone home but they're in one of their moods, so for the sake of my sanity, I thought I'd stay here. Where _is_ everybody?"

"Benefit. They're fighting again?"

"Yup. Aren't you going to ask what he did to her, this time?"

Seth would never admit the words aloud, so I didn't bother to inquire after the tone of voice. Loyalty was far to ingrained in Seth for him to ever admit to being angry with Jacob. But I was pretty sure I was right. Seth was angry. He was angry because Leah was hurting and it was all my fault.

But it would be pointless to try and get him to confess, so I changed the subject instead.

"Seth? Can I show you something?"

"I don't really want to watch the dirty details."

"Oh no," I said in a sickly sweet voice. "I'm sure you'll appreciate this topic of conversation. Apparently, you can't stop talking about it."

He looked a little suspicious, but I plastered on a smile and placed my hand on his cheek.

Frank and I were walking down the street after the movie, looking for his parked car, holding hands ever so casually. Seth would feel the giggling nervousness I couldn't help transmitting, but I tried to focus his attention where I wanted it, on what Frank was saying.

"Your brother plays the piano, too, right?"

"Yes, actually. He's a great pianist."

Everyone had agreed that Edward and I looked far too close in age to get away with ignoring the situation any longer. Father and daughter was out. Brother and sister was in. I had pushed for twins, simply because the resemblance was uncanny. I didn't want to have to figure out how old I was; everyone would just assume I was his age.

No one was looking too closely at the Cullens now. The people in Forks had mostly forgotten about them, except at the hospital. The people in La Push had never cared about them to begin with. It wasn't the safest of lies, but we couldn't leave for another year, at the very least, and so it would do for now.

I continued: "How did you know that?"

I hadn't talked about Edward much. I loved my father, really, but I did not want to be talking about him on a date.

"Seth told me," was Frank's reply. "He said the two of them were really good friends?"

"Yeah," I laughed. "The two of them are pretty adorable together. In a really strange, what-could-those-two-people-possibly-have-in-common sort of way, but still cute. Why were you and Seth talking about my brother?"

"Brady got into another fight," he began, "With some asshole. And Seth and I were just talking...he was trying to defend Brady, saying sometimes that sort of Neanderthal crap was okay. Then he mentioned your brother...and how he ripped some girl's head off when she wouldn't stop stalking his girlfriend."

"Really? Seth told you about that?" Hopefully, not the part where he meant it literally.

"Yeah. He told me lots of things about your brother. It was hard to get him to stop, actually. He told me about the things he did for his girl, like how he stopped a moving car for her, saved her from a whole group of guys who wanted to...you know, how he took on Jacob Black for her..."

Frank had started to sweat just thinking about it. I wanted to cry. And laugh.

I pulled away from Seth and glared, instead. He just blinked at me, _still_ not getting it. "So I told him a couple of stories about your dad," he shrugged. "He didn't figure out Edward's a vampire."

I sighed, then not so patiently explained. "You basically told him I have _the scariest brother on the planet_."

"Edward's not that scary."

"That's because you're a werewolf, Seth, and therefore incapable of being scared of the things you should be scared of. Frank does not know the extenuating circumstances that caused my father's actions. You painted my father as this crazy man who will rip a guy's throat out when he thinks a woman is being treated wrong—no wonder Frank is scared to get too close to me. Badly done."

"Are you mad at me?"

Of course not. You couldn't be mad at Seth, especially not when his hair was all ruffled and his eyes were so wide, scared of what I would say. He looked so worried that no one with the slightest bit human feeling could be mad at him.

"Just next time you feel the need to talk about how great my dad is, please keep it to yourself."

"Fine," he said. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to...anything."

I settled onto the couch and helped myself to more chips. "It's okay. So, why are you watching _The Sound of Music_?"

"They sing."

"Once again, I ask, why are you watching it?"

"Oh, come on, Ness. Think of your favorite things. Then it won't be so bad."

I groaned as Seth laughed, before he began flipping through the channels. There really was nothing on, but we debated the merits of infomercials versus sports reruns. Or I debated the merits, while Seth muted the vapid woman on the television and tried to guess what she was saying.

Seth was trying to sell me an Ab Coaster when we heard the front door open. It was a good thing Seth didn't hop off the couch to run and greet my father—Edward was not the one who came in the room a moment later.

"What are you two doing here?" I demanded as Jacob and Leah came through the door. The house was being invaded—no wonder my family hadn't wanted to leave it unmanned. No sooner had they entered then they somehow managed to get Seth on the floor, as they plopped themselves down on either side of me.

"We came looking for Seth," Leah shrugged as Jacob reached a long arm down to grab some chips from said werewolf. Jacob added, "And Leah didn't want to wait until to tomorrow to find out how it went."

"Jake's the one who watched for the kid to drive past."

"It was your idea."

She stuck out her tongue at him and then turned to me. "So...? How did it go?"

"Good. I guess."

"Leah," her brother said as he flipped past the singing nun, "Did you ever think that maybe she might not want to talk about it in front of the whole world?"

"We're not the whole world. Don't you want to tell the three of us?"

That wasn't a fair question. I always wanted to tell Jacob everything, I needed Leah's expert opinion on the subject and I could not come up with a perfectly logical reason for not wanting to tell Seth.

"Come on, Nessie," Jacob agreed. "We have to make sure he kept his hands in appropriate places."

Booming laughter rang out, calling out for Seth, who quickly got to his feet. "You two are creepy, by the way. I'm going to find Emmett."

Great. Jacob and Rosalie were going to both be here to inform me all the ways Frank better treat me unless he wanted a slow and agonizing death.

"You can't complain," I informed them. "And no teasing. Those are the ground rules."

"Why would we do that?" Leah shrugged. "Jake is now fine with this."

The man himself agreed with her, then grinned, "Though I still reserve the right to break his face if he breaks your heart."

"Not if I get there first, Fido," Rosalie announced as she entered the room. Leah actually got up and let Rosalie sit on my left while the female werewolf perched on the armrest right behind Jacob, towering over us all.

I started talking just to shut them all up.

They kept most of their inane comments to themselves, though occasionally during my narrative the werewolves would start whispering like schoolchildren, until Rosalie would threaten to send them to the corner if they didn't stop. But I reached the end before they ventured a proper remark.

"You little slut," Leah laughed.

"I didn't even use my tongue," I defended myself. Oh no. How in the world was I supposed to figure _that_ out?

"That was a joke." Rosalie gave a beatific smile, stoking my long, straight hair. "You're so happy you're not thinking straight."

I _had_ been happy. Now I was just panicking again. I had barely accomplished one step, let alone mastered it and they were already making me worried about the next. Useless guardians—at least Jacob still loved me.

"Leave her alone," he scolded them. "She did great tonight. Heck, my first kiss I think I got her eye. You didn't accidently blind anyone tonight, so you're doing good, Nessie."

"Thank you," I said as he wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head. I glanced up and couldn't help the notice Leah was staring at us. The expression on her face wasn't easy to decipher; something akin to horror, but less drastic...more like disbelief, I guess, intermingled with sorrow. Sorrow had become too prominent lately.

But she started talking, instead. "Did you feel some fireworks along with the butterflies?"

"Wouldn't that just cause the butterflies to catch fire and die horribly, painful, fiery deaths?" Jacob wondered. She hit him on the back of the head, which seemed to restore her spirits.

I giggled. "You're both ridiculous. Fireworks and butterflies and magic are all just silly clichés that people come up with because saying I felt a surge of this and that hormone is highly unpoetic and human beings seem to have the inescapable need to romanticize everything. "

All three of them looked at me with varying degrees of pity. "Oh sweetie," Leah said, "Maybe you were doing it wrong."

Or maybe that sort of elation—a highly unrealistic and fanciful state of ecstasy that only existed in the communal imagination—was only possible for me to experience with one other person. But I did not mention that, for while Jacob was a physically interesting specimen without his shirt, I had no desire to test said hypothesis.

The sound of the front door opening echoed, yet again, warning me that the rest of my family was coming. Alice was in the doorway before I knew it, Bella just behind her. I was going to have to do this all night. At least I had delivered the proper result.

"I knew it," Alice declared, clapping happily. "Well, I didn't _know_ it, know it, but I knew it. I don't even need powers, I'm so good."

Bella was already hugging me. They were all ridiculous, but I hugged her back.

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TBC…


	38. Chapter 38

A/N: My apologies to everyone. For some reason I couldn't edit anything on Saturday night...and you really don't want to see these chapters unedited. I'm very sorry about the delay and any confusion I caused last chapter. That should teach me not to put thoughts into these author's notes. Anyway, we'll see if I can't post another chapter Thursday to make it up to you.

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Chapter 38

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"Why is there a Porsche in the driveway?"

I looked up from my book to find Seth in the midst of the werewolf migratory route—from his bed to the fridge. It was about time he woke up, even though I hadn't heard him come downstairs. Frank had challenged me to read all of _Notes From Underground._ For every bodily complaint, he had promised me a kiss. It was such a ridiculously easy challenge I was reading the book in the original Russian—and we were still going to be very busy next time we went out.

That moment, I just explained to Seth what was going on. "Jacob's going to teach me to drive today. He brought the Porsche over here this morning. We're going to go the second the two of them come downstairs."

"You don't already know how to drive?" I shrugged and Seth asked, "They just left you?"

"Leah was eating ice cream in bed to celebrate dumping her boyfriend and Jacob went upstairs to convince her it was pathetic," I said. "Seth?"

He looked up from his careful sandwich preparation. Even though I found it distasteful, you had to give the werewolves credit for the effort they put into their food. "Yeah?"

"Halloween's next week." It was an anniversary that made me cringe. One year since Leah had tried to stay away from us and I was a little bit scared it was going to happen again. The longer I was back, the sadder she seemed to get. "Are they—I don't know what I'm asking, really. I just—they've been sort of strange lately. Do you know why?"

"When aren't they weird? I don't know. Probably just arguing about what to get Will for his birthday."

Jacob's nephew was turning one in a few days (three days, I think, but I would have to ask to be sure) but that didn't make much sense. "They're upset at each other over baby toys? That seems absurd."

"Then ask Jacob," Seth said. Somehow it was still obvious that his annoyance wasn't at me—maybe it was the way he managed to make Jacob's name sound like it had three syllables. "By the way, I don't recommend hitting people with the car."

"Thanks for the advice," I called after him as he left the kitchen.

The Cyrillic alphabet failed to be as engrossing as before. I could no longer distract myself from the fear that I was going to have to watch them fall apart all over again. Maybe I was nervous for no reason, but I still cast my mind about, searching for ways to prevent the inevitable train wreck.

I had come up with nothing when they both came down. They looked cheerful this morning—they should. They had been upstairs almost forty-five minutes. It was Leah who asked, "You ready for this, kid?"

"Of course. Though I don't understand what the big deal is. So what if I can drive?"

That snapped Jacob out of his mood. His eyes widened in horror at my declaration and he responded as if I had temporarily gone insane.

"It's only the single greatest freedom a person can have. With a license you can go anywhere, do anything, see everything—"

"The only place I can go without supervision is here. My family can drive me most of the way and I don't mind the walk. Really, Jacob, you're making this a big deal when it's not. It's just driving."

The face Jacob made was quite impressive, worse than my mother's when someone spoke against my father or me. It was so impressive it got Leah laughing. Jacob glared and muttered, "Shut up," in her direction.

"I think you broke his heart," she chided me, still laughing.

"You could be a little less delighted," he complained.

"Maybe this way she'll give you the car."

His face lit up, even though she was joking and he knew it. He couldn't help the reflexive action. All he said was, "I'll settle for just driving it. You ready to start, Nessie?"

"Sure. I'm staying for dinner, right?" I asked Leah.

"If you remember to pick it up on the way back," she agreed. "Don't get back too early, though. I have to go visit Rachel today and if I survive the experience I want to have food waiting for me when I get back."

"We'll wait for you," I promised, following Jacob out the door. As I hurried to catch up to him, I asked, "So how are we starting?"

"I'm going to back the car onto the street. You stay here."

I did as I was told. This was far too important to Jacob for me to fight him. Stupid cars were his world, as precious to him as my books were to me. I might even be able to rustle up some enthusiasm if I worked hard enough.

Jacob got out and waved me over. The unfortunate consequence of having him drive first was that the seat was so far back I could have probably slept comfortably in the space between the seat and the pedals. I had never given much thought about the height difference between us, but now I couldn't help thinking that I was always going to come across as a daughter, not an equal. No matter how many years passed, he would look older and stand a foot taller. I moved the seat into place.

"Okay, first up," he began, "This is the steering wheel."

"You have got to be kidding me."

He gave me his infectious Jacob-grin and I giggled, a little. Even though he probably thought this was the most important moment of my life, it was nice to see that Jacob could still make a joke. I half-listened as he went on to talk about the proper procedure. He was good at giving instructions, Jacob, certain but not pompous about it. This was what he knew well and he was delighted to be able to share it with me. "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready."

Press down on the brakes, turn the key, listen to the engine rumble to life then listen as Jacob waxed poetic about the sound of an engine for a good long while—all these steps I performed admirably. Now came the hard part. Getting the car to move.

"Gently, gently," Jacob urged.

I did the opposite, moving my foot from the brake to the gas pedal too quickly, jerking the car into motion. Faking panic, I switched back to the brake, then turned to listen to Jacob reprimand me. All he did was sigh.

"You already know how to do this, don't you?"

"What? No." He glared and I amended, "Not really."

"I don't believe this. Who taught you?" I opened my mouth, but he cut off the lie before it even came out. "You taught yourself, didn't you?"

Since he seemed determined to do this to himself, I said honestly, "I figured it out by the time I was two. I'm sorry, Jacob. You can still go through the basics with me. Rosalie seemed to like that."

"You played dumb for Rosalie, too? At least I wasn't the only dupe."

"And you figured it out much faster than she did. I'm very sorry, Jacob. I didn't mean to ruin this for you."

He burst out laughing. "Nessie, I don't care. There's no point in me teaching you something you already know. Come on, since you can already do this, let's go for a ride. Let's go to Forks for ice cream or something."

I didn't point out that it would spoil our dinner, for it wouldn't spoil Jacob's at all. Instead, I said, "Do you want to go in and get Leah?"

"She can't cancel on Rachel again. Besides," he said with a bit of an evil grin, "We couldn't take the Porsche. So, do you need directions or do you have that memorized too?"

"That was a rhetorical question, right?" I asked as I began driving down the street. The streets of La Push and Forks were as much a part of me as the names of my relatives. I couldn't not know where I was at all times. Maybe it was my family's paranoia, but it was paying off just now.

We drove mostly in silence, Jacob occasionally teasing me about going exactly two miles over the speed limit, but for the most part saying nothing at all. There was simply too much to talk about. Jacob and I had not been alone together since I got back (since I found out the last conscious wish he had ever made was to kill me) and there were a few things I wanted to say to him. But it would be better to have the conversation face to face, not with me behind the wheel of a car, so I concentrated on getting us to the ice cream parlor safely.

Since it was almost November and Forks was never the warmest town to begin with, the place was relatively empty. We were the only ones outside, Jacob licking his cone, me picking at the sundae we both knew he would end up eating. Watching the strawberry sauce drip down the vanilla ice cream, I asked, "Why is Leah going to see your sister?"

"Because she's a masochist."

"What?"

"Just a...never mind. They used to be friends, you know. I guess they still are and Will's birthday needs planning...and Leah won't pass up the opportunity to show Paul how much better she is at something than he could ever be."

"You don't like her getting mad at Paul?"

"If I could afford it, I would pay people to get mad at Paul on a daily basis." Jacob studied me for a second and then—because he wanted to talk to somebody and I was the only one there—he said, "I think Leah actually likes Paul better than Rachel, now."

"I don't follow."

"Paul just got lucky. But Rachel...she followed the plan. Not all of it, but then again, not even Sam got out. But Rachel got the guy and the house and the kid and—Leah says she's happy with what we're doing, but it's just work and she deserves to have more than just..."

"Having to be second best all the time?"

His head snapped up, a little startled. Even though we both knew it's not what I meant, I offered, "Because a woman can't be Chief, right?"

"Yeah." The word came out like it was bitter on his tongue. In a way, it was all his fault, even though he hadn't asked for it. Or maybe he had. "Yeah."

He continued, "And it doesn't help that Sue just won't shut up. Just because she's bored up in Forks doesn't mean her kids have to produce grandchildren just to amuse her. But what does she care? But I guess, from her point of view...did you know by the time she was Leah's age, she'd already had Seth?"

"I didn't know that about Sue." I should have, I realized. It was basic math, to figure out how old Sue had been when her children had been born, but I had never bothered to do the figures. How thoughtless. I did them now.

"Sue was younger than you when she had Leah?"

Grateful for the slight change in topic, Jacob began to babble, "She had Leah a few years after she started working. But they'd been engaged a long time. There's a story...no one's ever had the guts to ask Sue if it's true or not, but even Dad used to say that Sue got her college acceptance letter and marched right on up to Harry and informed him they were going to get married when she graduated. And Harry said 'okay' and that was that. Leah was going to do that, too, probably, except Sam became a werewolf, messed everything up."

Since I had started doing the basic math, I couldn't seem to stop. It was too easy for me to recall the card from the funeral home that sat on the Clearwater's mantelpiece, the one that stated the span of Harry Clearwater's too brief life. That would have made the gap between him and Sue...seven to eight years. And she had been young, only a few years older than me, but probably not much more.

Jacob was still talking, "She's just having a bad week and I don't know how to fix it."

Did I?

I couldn't—no. I didn't have a solution. I couldn't. Not until I was exactly sure of the problem.

"Jacob? There's something I wanted to ask you. Or tell you, I suppose. I'm not sure which it is, actually, but if you don't mind...?"

"Whatever you want, Nessie."

"It's about Seth."

"He can't help being that annoying. It's just the way he is."

"Not funny, as usual. Anyway," I said, taking a deep breath, "Ever since I got back I've started to notice there's something a little _different_ about Seth."

"And?"

As difficult as the double entendre had been for me to master, hanging around the werewolves (and Emmett) this long had taught me a thing or two. There was a very obvious way in which my words could be misconstrued, especially when combined with how nervous I was. It helped that both meanings were at least partially true.

Jacob didn't care.

There was no flicker of jealousy, no sign of suspicion, not even a hint of annoyance on his face. Either he trusted me that much, simply didn't care, or was too willing to go along with whatever I desired. None of my options seemed very appealing.

I wanted to scream at him. All I did was explain:

"At first I thought I was imagining it. After all, it's Seth. There are certain things one should not associate with Seth and this was one of them. And yet...I can't deny it anymore." Still nothing, just boredom. I got to the point. "Seth's angry. Furious, even. And I'm positive it's at you."

_That_ got his attention.

"What?"

Jacob looked far too guilty to try and deny it, so all I did was continue to explain my thought process.

"He used to talk about you the way I did—only worse. But now...he's not always complimentary. Sometimes he's out and out critical. He's not always polite, he makes snide comments—I can sometimes literally see him restraining himself from insulting you. He's angry with you."

"I did take over his house."

"That's what I thought, at first. That it was a territory dispute. None of the other wolves live as close as you. There must have been a reason that the Clearwaters are the only siblings that both phased...maybe it was to prevent you from living too close together. So I looked at your charts."

Seth went to Carlisle once every two months for tests, so my grandfather could try and discover more about the werewolves. Jacob went whenever I asked him (and he didn't have good excuse to get out of it). Most of the others had been in at least once, though Carlisle's records on the only female of the species remained conspicuously absent. Still, the werewolves were remarkable biological creatures.

The amount of testosterone in their blood alone should have stuck them dead (or at least signaled the presence of a devastating, inoperable tumor), but it hadn't. Looking at the numbers, it was hard not to feel sympathetic towards Leah for having to live in a house with both of them.

"There was nothing to suggest that Seth's response towards you was biologic. No fluctuations or sudden changes or unexplained phenomena. And if he was upset with you, than he was only doing it passively. You hadn't done anything to earn an out and out attack."

Without asking, Jacob took my sundae and began eating it, trying to ignore what I was saying. The syrup had already melted mostly into the ice cream, but he didn't seem to notice the taste at all.

"Then I realized, Seth would never be mad at you for something you had done to him. He's not that sort of person." Not normal at all. "And he's always admired you so much...it's hard to think of anyone in the world he loves more than you. Even Edward might not beat you."

"He wouldn't." I looked at Jacob questioningly, so he explained, briefly, "If it came down to it, it would be me over Edward. I'm his brother. If he had to pick, it would be me. He'd hate to do it, but...I'm family."

If I hadn't been sure I was onto something before, the way he choked a little on the last word confirmed it. Even if I thought he was wrong. Tribe loyalty hadn't stopped Seth from helping my family when it was the right thing to do. It wasn't that important, so I continued.

"Probably the only two people on the planet he cares about more than you are his mother and his sister. Now, you did sort of try and replace Sue, but I'm sure that was actually more Leah's fault and Seth wouldn't hold you responsible for something that wasn't your doing. So that leaves Leah." I studied Jacob carefully as I said, "It's enough to make me think you did something to her, only she doesn't seem angry with you. Angry at the world, yes, but not angry with you, not really."

"Leah's always been an idiot." Jacob continued to stab at the sundae. "You seem to have this all figured out. You tell me."

Fine.

"That house and kid and life that she wants...she wants it with you. Leah's in love with you, isn't she?"

We sat in silence for a long while. There was no one else around to tell us to go away and Jacob needed a moment to recover. I wasn't a child, making wild accusations out of jealousy. This time I had the facts to back up my theory. I was sure—and that changed the rules completely. No wonder he wasn't sure how to respond.

"You'd have to ask her," he muttered eventually.

I didn't have to. It might not have been true, but it was certainly what Jacob, and even Seth, believed. The guilt that covered Jacob's face said as much. Every part of him thought I was right, thought she was in love with him. And he hated himself for that, just a little bit.

"Are you in love with her?"

Would it hurt me if he said yes? I knew part of me would rejoice in discovering I was right, since I always liked having knowledge confirmed, and an even bigger part of me would be delighted to finally have them together, properly, like they belonged. But was there a part of me—however tiny, however long forgotten—that wanted Jacob for myself?

As I waited, half holding my breath, I was surprised to find there was. A miniscule part of me was hurt. I was too used to expecting him to love me to forget him easily. Having him leave me was unthinkable. But I could let him love her, if that's what he wanted. I could recover from that. Couldn't I?

"No."

Liar.

"Jacob, it's okay if you do."

"Listen," he growled, "I don't care what your mother's taught you, but you don't hurt the people you love. It's not love if all you can do is make someone miserable. Okay?"

To prove he was wrong—to show him that love made endure terrible agony, even if I would have been happy not to have been born at all if it meant she could have been spared all that—I reached out my hand and placed it on his arm. I would show him what I had seen.

It didn't go quite the way I expected.

_Leah, beautiful as always, screaming as always, your fault as always, saying things like love and family and coward and please that are supposed to hurt but don't because they mean less coming from her because that's the rule. Her teeth snap together once she finishes, because she understands it's not a lie if no one ever believed it in the first place, even though you can see the beauty in the dream she paints with her words and hands and smile. Double dog dare you she mutters even though beta's aren't supposed to beg and she will always be your right side now even though it might just kill you both. There's always the split second where your arms go out, where she steps closer, where the challenge is all that matters because you've always liked challenges and then suddenly the words come out because the truth doesn't set you free it just keeps you in place as you run your laps like a good boy._

_I. Will. Leave. You._

_Teeth and claws and more than two hundred pounds of muscle and you only ever killed vampires but somehow it just takes four words to break Leah Clearwater. It isn't reasonable for her to ask because you've already fulfilled your share of impossible deeds and it's not in you to want to do that anymore, even if there are tears in her eyes and it is a beautiful dream. Alpha's aren't supposed to beg. Maybe it was Sam's rule or maybe it was always that way because before the monsters had mansions things were harder for everyone. But that doesn't matter because you can't give away what isn't yours any more, you only tricked yourself when you thought it was yours in the first place, and Leah's never going to understand that but you beg her to try anyway because at least if you're selfish you're still pretty sure you're you. _

_Leah never liked forgiveness and she hates justice even more. Her rule is a very simple one and it makes you want to laugh (or cry or both) when you think of how Nessie would like it, in that it vaguely makes you think of physics, Leah's unfounded belief that there is only so much misery in the world so that if she spreads it indiscriminately to everyone she meets than eventually she'll stop feeling like she's been the fool for believing in a fantasy this whole time. She probably won't hurt Nessie, but you're can't help being aware of how she delights in knowing how much she's hurting you, refusing to let you share the only thing you can give her anymore, as if it could possibly make up for the way you keep taking._

"Nessie?"

I glanced at Jacob, removing my hand. He looked puzzled, but unaware—unaware what? I wasn't even sure what I had done. Shaking my head, I forced out the words: "I want to drive some more. I'm tired of Forks."

Being so close to the blistering werewolf had melted the sundae into a gruesome pink liquid that looked the opposite of appealing. Jacob didn't even look at it as he stood up and threw it out. Walking towards the exit, he made sure to hold the door for me as we left.

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TBC...


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: I'm pretty sure I covered everything that should be confusing anyone up to this point in time in this chapter. If I'm not...oops. Tell me what I missed and I'll stick it in here. I want to proceed clearly from here on out, so make sure your questions have been answered.

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Chapter 39

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"Twenty bucks on Nessie."

"Thanks, Embry."

"Sorry, kid, but I don't have money to blow on you."

Seth pretended to hit the other werewolf, which, of course, ended up with them wrestling together on the floor, having forgotten the purpose of our gathering. Sue was hosting an anti-thanksgiving dinner and Jacob had advised me not to ask but just be thankful I had been invited. Like any werewolf get-together, it had devolved into violence. And gambling. Quil was counting the money; he was going to be the bookie today and he was taking his responsibilities seriously.

"If you hurt him, Embry, you'll screw up the results," Jacob said, finally pulling his two pack mates apart. Neither looked bruised, which left me a tiny bit disappointed because Embry didn't have to tell his quasi-girlfriend _everything._ They hadn't seen each other in person in almost four months, so why was he reporting on my every movement?

"Dinner's in ten minutes whether you're ready or not," Sue said as she marched into the room. "Hurry up or eat elsewhere."

Ever since Jacob had told me about Sue and Harry Clearwater, I found myself wanting to ask her exactly she had gone about it, in case it proved relevant later on. It would have been a pointless question. She was Sue. She just...did things. Her way. So what if Harry had been eight years older? Jacob had once said Leah's father had been like Seth, only more obliging. If that was physically possible, it would explain things, even if it didn't help me.

Jacob had a stubbornness that I doubted even Sue could have breached at her most abrasive. Except when it came to me, but that just made everything more complicated. Just because I could make him do things against his will didn't mean that's what I wanted. I wanted...him happy. Why did that have to be so complicated?

"You wouldn't let us starve," Seth declared, sitting down beside me.

"Watch me. I gave you birth, I don't have to give you food. Now, hurry up and let her beat you."

"You bet against me? That's harsh, Mom."

I pointed out, "Odds are fifty to one."

"Show off."

"Could we please just get this show on the road?" Leah complained from the couch. "We can't make fun of Seth until this is over and I'm getting tired of waiting."

"Everyone's faith is inspiring," Seth muttered, moving so he was on the side of the table, perpendicular to me. "Ready to kick my ass, Nessie?"

"Stop it with the attitude," Jacob ordered, sitting down when Leah made room for him on the couch. "You can beat her."

The whole room rolled its collective eyes at Jacob, except for Charlie, who wasn't quite comfortable with acknowledging that his slender, not quite seventeen year old granddaughter could easily defeat the over two hundred pounds of solid muscle that was a Quileute werewolf at an arm wrestling contest, even if said werewolf was Seth. But facts were facts, even if Jacob refused to acknowledge them.

When Jacob had begun complaining about my inability to take care of myself in the face of Frank's growing confidence and propensity towards exploration, Embry had mentioned that Shelia could pick him up one handed. While no one had really wanted to know how that information came to his attention, it had started an argument about the various merits of half-vampire versus werewolf strength. While the werewolves had done their traditional trash talking—and I was the immature one, Jacob?—there had been a reluctant acknowledgement among most of the pack that untransformed I could probably defeat them. Except Jacob did not want to face facts. Hence the arm wrestling.

I had thought I would just demonstrate to Jacob that I was clearly stronger than he was, but somehow in the commotion that was the pack trying to organize anything (they were sort of sweet when they were excited, very much like overeager puppies) Leah had nixed the idea of me fighting their Alpha and somehow Seth had volunteered. Probably because he was the only one in the room that could survive the blow to his ego, though no one mentioned that fact aloud.

"Can we please start now?" I asked. "Cold food tastes even worse than regular food."

"One day I'm going to be insulted," Sue warned me. It wasn't my fault that human food had never been my favorite, but I was glad when Charlie patted her hand to reassure her it was nothing personal.

"Positions," Jacob declared. I had seen Emmett do this with...basically everyone he could talk into it so it was easy for me to put my elbow on the table and offer out my hand, even though I hadn't really arm wrestled before.

I was less nervous about the actual wrestling part (how hard could it be to exert force?) than the touching another person part.

In the three weeks since my power had started malfunctioning—not malfunctioning, evolving, Bella said, determined to make me see how wonderful everything could be—it hadn't gone off unless invoked. I had been spared the embarrassment of transferring memories, or the new unpleasant alternative of picking them up, unless I tried to use my power. But there could always be a first. I wasn't supposed to be able to pick things up from other people...and now I could.

When I was a child, my power had been a useful tool, a way to communicate when language was beyond me. As I got older, as my diction became more precise than my emotions and thoughts, I stopped using it for all but a few small things. My life was so easy, there was no sense in avoiding the challenge that came with trying to adapt myself to the world as it was, instead of allowing it to conform to me. Besides, explaining myself through thoughts when I could be more exact with the spoken word was illogical. I was content to be a broadcast tower, one that only had occasional programming.

Only we had been wrong.

I could do more than transmit; I could receive. The experiments with my family made it clear—sometimes I could take as well as give.

I had seen Bella and Jacob, walking along the beach, so much younger than I could imagine. Emmett had shown me the bear, had shown me Rosalie as he first saw her, golden and dazzling even though the pain blocked out everything else around her. I almost fell in love with her in that moment myself, the memory was so powerful and it helped me understand a bit better the way Emmett's eyes would soften when he looked at his wife. With Alice it had been trickier, as I went searching for something she herself couldn't see. It had been a futile effort, but there was the vague, undefined hope that one day I might become powerful enough to help her find what she was missing.

Because I was the miracle child who could do anything.

"Nessie?" Jacob called to me. "You need to be paying attention. This is serious business here and we aren't going to accept any excuses."

"Maybe we should blindfold her, too," Leah laughed.

"Worst older sibling. Ever," Seth complained as he took my hand. I had become used too only holding Frank's the past little while, but I easily readjusted to the warmth of the werewolves. It was too familiar to be unpleasant, even if his dark fingers seemed to swallow up my hand. A reassuring squeeze got my attention, reminding me to relax. Seth wasn't showing me anything I didn't want to see, so I released the air in my lungs and smiled back.

"Yay Seth," Leah grumbled, but it made her brother laugh. Even Charlie turned attention away from the game for a second, as they competition was about to begin.

"Ready?" Jacob asked. "Three, two, one..."

I let my mind wander for the moment. Seth didn't have a prayer of moving me, but he would never hear the end of it if I beat him too quickly. His friends could be most tiresome.

Like Embry. It had only been reluctantly that I had told Jacob what was happening, but he thankfully never connected my growing powers with the day he taught me to drive. When Jacob had remembered to tell his friends, Embry immediately went and told Shelia, completely ignoring the fact I might want to tell her myself.

I was only waiting to be sure I knew what was going on, but the next time I had called her she had moved past the news and towards its applications, talking on and on about all the things she wanted to show me. She had made me a little enthusiastic about becoming even more of a freak of nature, but she had also made me talk to her sisters, which didn't exactly endear me to her.

Even they had been helpful, though they couldn't help be annoying. Sakhet had seen powers develop in some of Joham's long dead children, and she warned me that if I didn't get mine under control by the time I stopped aging, I never would. Reassuring. Meanwhile, Elmira gave some suggestions about how to practice my emerging skills and then ruined our perfectly decent conversation by asking when she was going to be allowed to come to La Push. I had enough problems without worrying about her seducing half the town in her unending quest not to be alone—I think I would have been more sympathetic if she hadn't been able to mention Sam and Seth by name. They were taken and, sure, Seth's girlfriend was practically illiterate, having never heard of George Eliot, but...Elmira was not welcome here.

Besides, I had more important concerns. Two big ones, in fact. One was currently curled together on Charlie's couch, mocking Seth's inability to get my arm to budge an inch, no matter how he huffed and puffed. The second was even more problematic.

What was I seeing, in the memories I stole?

There had always been a somewhat fluid nature about what I could. When I wanted to, it wasn't just actual memories I projected. When I transmitted, I essentially transmitted pictures I created. As a child, it had taken me a while to understand that it was my emotions that colored those pictures, altered things from the way I had truly experienced them to the way I wished I had experienced them, at least to some extent.

That wouldn't do. I did not want to alter reality, to be imprecise. I strove to keep my emotions detached from my experiences.

It wasn't possible, anymore. The memories of other people had not been stripped of sentiment, prepared for broadcast. They were chaotic, furious and overwhelming. Each point of pigmentation was embedded with a whole lifetimes worth of emotion that I could barely begin to decipher.

Edward and Jasper oversaw the experiments, searched through me thoughts and feelings to figure out exactly what was happening, and advised me as to the action I could now take. It wouldn't be so bad—they were both very good teachers—but even they didn't know exactly what was happening.

Edward gave me his advice.

"It's can be hard to deal with sometimes. In the privacy of their own minds, people no longer feel the need to hide their own depravity. It will shock you and hurt you, but you must not let it overwhelm you. If it gets too much, I'm here to help you. Or your mother can shield you. But remember, humans have no chance against us and even if..." there he snarled, "you must try and ignore them."

Jasper did not offer advice—he never had—but I cornered him anyway because my mind was no longer merely the distorted reflection of my father. It had evolved into something much broader than that and I needed all the help I could get. Besides, Jasper's silence had always been too heavy. I wanted to know what he was not saying.

"Show me," I begged, as he sat in the library, trying to read. "Everyone else has at least tried to show me something. I want to see what happened to you."

"No you don't," he said. I was used to knowing best, but Jasper had managed such self-assurance I didn't dare push him further. His were not memories I would be allowed to touch.

Ever.

My disappointment must have shown on my face as I sat on the couch across from him, for he did offer me something.

"It might actually be easier for you, at first. It was for me. When I could sense the feeling in a room, vaguely, it was better. It was only when my understanding deepened that the world changed. They have not yet invented words for all you will one day be able to experience, Nessie. A different combination of emotions every second, never repeating, different shades of joy and despair and all that's in between...there is simply too many feelings for us to assign them words. Don't tell your father," he said with a half-smirk, "But under every thought he hears is a hundred feelings that I may never understand."

"Nessie?" Seth's voice drew my attention away from my memories. It was strained, but there was still a small smile on his face. "You going to beat me sometime soon? My arm's getting tired."

I could feel the tendons in his arm straining where his wrist rested against mine, as he tried to move my immobile hand. "Sorry," I muttered and brought him hand down to the table.

"And we have a winner!" Quil crowed. "Please step up and collect your winnings."

"Way to look like you put in effort," Seth teased. As we shook hands, I made sure to ask, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Only my pride. And don't feel too bad about that—werewolves heal fast." He got to his feet, helping me up just before Leah came over so she could literally laugh in his face.

"Can't even beat a little girl, Seth," she sighed. "So sad."

"I could still beat you."

He was picking her up and she was screaming and kicking, so I quickly dropped down beside Jacob on the couch. He had taken the heaviest losses today, so I apologized. "I didn't mean to lose you any money."

Jacob chuckled, but his eyes were on the Clearwaters, who were now being helped and hindered by Quil and Embry. "It's not a big deal. His strength hasn't caught up with his height, yet."

"Jacob..." I was always going to be stronger than Seth—or any werewolf. "You're not angry that I beat him, are you?"

"No," he answered finally. Jasper might have been able to tell precisely, but even I could tell there was too many feelings on his face to be described easily. Pride and jealousy and love and arrogance and humiliation and sadness and respect and...it almost made me dizzy, trying to name all the emotions, even the ones he would never admit to.

"How does it feel to be so incredibly wrong?" Leah asked as she came over, still panting lightly, to collapse across the whole couch, legs on the two of us. Her finger was poking at Jacob's arm. "You going to cry now, Jake?"

"Stop it," he said, trying to grab her hand, but she just kept the poking. He tried capturing her hand, but she just giggled some more, which somehow made him smile even though it shouldn't.

How did they manage? I was sure I had seen what had happened between them last Halloween; they had even been dressed in the clothes I remember them wearing to the maze. After something like that—with them both so miserable, her wanting more, him refusing despite her threat to withdraw her friendship—how did they end up laughing together on the couch, practically lying on top of one another, ignoring me?

Or not ignoring me. One of Leah's legs kicked dangerously close to me and she sat up abruptly. "Sorry! You okay, Nessie?"

Maternal concern, friendly nonchalance, loving unease that somehow she had damaged me...I liked it better when I had ignored how there was so much to decipher. It had been easier when I thought Leah simply hated me. How did one behave towards the women who was in love with the man who had imprinted on you, the woman he was half in love with though he thought it was futile to care about anyone but you, the woman he was placating by allowing her to somehow pretend that you were her child?

Why couldn't she just hate me?

Why couldn't I just hate her?

"I'm fine. You finished being excessively amused?"

"Not even close," she assured me. "Too bad you didn't wear your hair in pigtails today. That would have made it perfect."

"I can't believe you didn't take pictures," Jacob said.

"I would have if someone hadn't sat on the camera."

"If you hadn't left it on the chair..."

They went back and forth, as always. Jacob had to be wrong—if he wanted to be with her, it wouldn't be a fruitless endeavor. There was no need for them to both be secretly miserable, being so close to what could never happen, because it could if I could just figure out how to tell them that. Even as I thought it, part of me suspected Frank was somehow not enough.

"Don't trample me on the way to the kitchen," Sue said, calling everyone to the table without actually saying the words. Three pack members rushed past her, while Charlie stood up slowly and walked over to his girlfriend, talking her hand and smiling shyly before following her to the table.

Leah got off us and the three of us began heading towards the food. Her hand somehow ended up on my shoulder, turning me towards her. "You okay, kid? You've been sort of quiet today."

"I'm fine," I repeated.

So many emotions in my voice that I couldn't put a name to, but there wasn't any point in labeling them because I didn't know them all. Let Jasper keep his million emotions. Edward knew what was important, the only part of people you could understand properly.

That Jacob felt things, deep in his gut where thoughts didn't dwell, wasn't his fault. To hold him responsible for such things would be unkind, for the man he had been before he met me no longer really existed. There was just the long-forgotten echo deep inside him, reminding the deaf audience that he had never wanted me in the first place. But it would never condense into thought...and I couldn't have hated Jacob even if it had.

"Leah?" I asked as we walked into the kitchen. "What sort of outfit would be appropriate for bowling?"

"A habit," Jacob muttered.

Leah laughed, then suggested, "And a giant cross so she can yell 'back demon boy' when he gets too close?"

"That would be the idea."

"You two are enough to drive a person crazy," I announced. But I gave them both a quick hug before I sat down. Above my head, I knew they were staring at each other, trying to figure out what was happening to me in the silent way they had always been able to communicate. They probably wouldn't come to the right conclusion.

Even when it should be obvious, no one ever blamed me for the way I forced everything to rearrange for my convenience. But I could fix that. I just had to figure out how.

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TBC...


	40. Chapter 40

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Chapter 40

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"I've always wanted to be a mannequin. There's just something about painted on eyes that's rather irresistible. Don't you think, Leah?"

"Shut up, kid. And hold still."

The female werewolf didn't look up from the straighter she was running through my red curls. When I had arrived here almost half an hour ago, the two werewolves had taken one look at Alice's hard work and frowned. Despite the fact it had taken Alice and Rosalie three hours to prepare, they didn't want my going to the dance looking the way I did.

I would have accused them of just being difficult, or of being territorial, or of being insane, except they did have a rather good point. One they had explained to me only after they had dragged me upstairs against my will, but a good point nonetheless.

I couldn't go to a high school dance in a ten thousand dollar Vera Wang original.

During the seemingly endless hours under Alice's supervision, I hadn't given a thought to how I would look amongst the other teens from La Push. It had been careless of me, which is why I hadn't protested too much when Leah destroyed my perfectly coiffed up-do, even if it had been a work of art. It served me right for not asking ahead, to find out how I should look. I simply heard dance and assumed the dress code would be sophisticated.

Instead, Leah had dug through her closet and found some clothes from before her transformation, which still needed a bit of pinning before they fit me properly. But ten years hadn't changed skirts that much, and though Edward would have disapproved of the plunging neckline, I still managed to look pretty in the more casual outfit. Besides, I was not going with Edward to the dance. I was going with Frank. And his friends.

All his friends...

"You'll have fun, Nessie," Jacob said. He must have noticed I was three seconds away from running away in panic.

I'm sure Frank had nice friends. Nice and normal friends. How was I ever supposed to get along with them? I couldn't do normal. I never had. I could barely fake it for more than thirty seconds at a time and now I had to try and fit in all night (it had taken Jacob a solid month to convince my family, but I was going to be allowed to sleep over at the house of one of his friend's afterwards...Jimmy, I think). This was going to be a disaster.

Jacob was only reassuring me because he wasn't the one being tortured. There had been no strange products in his hair, no plucking out of his eyebrows, no foul-smelling concoctions put on his face. _Twice._ No, Jacob has been relatively uninvolved tonight, content to watch as Leah performed whatever strange rituals she desired on me, playing with Seth's ancient Game Boy.

"I should cancel," I all but begged. "I should call him right now and cancel. I was crazy for thinking I could do this. I have to—"

"Stop whining, kid," Leah said. But she wasn't snapping. Dressing me up had put her in a much better mood than usual. Moving on to the next section of my hair, she said, "After everything we did to make sure you could go, you sure as hell better actually go."

"But I don't know anyone."

Jacob said, "You know Frank. Kid's not half bad, most of the time. He'll talk to you."

Even with all of his friends there? How could we discuss theoretical physics in a crowded, loud room?

"He'll understand if I cancel. He didn't even really want to go, not until I said I'd go with him."

Since everyone seemed to understand I was complaining for formality's sake—because terror could do that to a person—Leah just ignored me, smiling proudly as she created a large cloud of hairspray around my head.

"You really are a heartbreaker," Leah announced. She bent down so her head was beside mine. "What do you think?"

I stared at the two of us in the mirror, her dark face beside my own pale one. Her eyes were bright tonight, so somehow I must have been doing something right. She had done her work well, so that I almost looked like a regular so close to being seventeen year old girl and not some strange mystical freak. Of course, I still looked like a child beside her, but I didn't mind for once. I did look beautiful.

"Thank you, Leah," I said, kissing her cheek.

"You're welcome. Jake, get over here. We have to fawn all over her."

"Fawning," he said, getting off the bed, reluctantly shutting the Game Boy. But when his attention turned towards me, he gave me his easy Jacob smile. It was good to see again. "You look great, Nessie. Too great. Maybe we shouldn't let you go out. They'll be too many boys after you."

"Really?"

"You have to be a little less eager," Leah informed me. "Guys don't like it when you make it too easy. Not for long, anyway."

"Not funny, Leah. Let me stay home, Jacob?"

He sat down on the bed and pulled me in front of him so we were almost at eye level for once. His face was grave, his voice soft. It was a serious conversation we were going to have. Too bad our serious conversations lately had consisted of us ignoring the main problem—a problem I couldn't seem to come up with a solution for. At least this time was less awkward.

"Nessie, I know me and Leah are totally cool and your family's great, well except for Blon..." I glared and he got back on topic. "The point, Nessie, is that we're always going to be there for you. Forever. But soon you're going to be too old for this kind of stuff. So you have to do this now, while you can. It might be your only chance to do dumb teenager stuff."

"I really hate it when you make sense," I pouted. He just laughed, so I admitted, in a quiet whisper, "I hate how I don't know how to be human."

Jacob stood up and wrapped his big arms around me, letting me bury myself into his warm chest. It wasn't that I was scared, but how could I possible fool a bunch of humans? Teenagers were supposedly the most judgmental kind there were. They were going to hate me.

"Of course you know how to be human. That's what so you are, so whatever you do is right," he promised. "Now, where's my brave girl? The one who wasn't scared even when the biggest, baddest vamps in the world came after her?"

I giggled. "Don't let Emmett and Jasper hear you. They like to think they're the toughest."

"The word delusional springs to mind," Leah said. There was a shiny metal box dangling from her hand. A camera, I realized with an internal groan. She must have seen my pained expression. "Quit complaining. It's part of the process."

"I'm not going to smile."

"Who are you, your mother?"

"Leah...don't. Take your stupid pictures, but don't do that."

"Fine. Bella's a perfect leech. Now, we'll take some now and some after Frank gets here."

"You're going to make him talk to us?" Jacob asked. "I know you're evil and sadistic, Leah, but that's a bit much. We'd make him wet himself."

"I told you to make Seth stay. But did you listen? So now we have to do it or we won't have any pictures the two of them looking all cute together."

"Great," I muttered, trying not to show how horrified I was at the thought of Jacob and Leah greeting Frank. Jacob couldn't help being overprotective, even if I wished that Seth hadn't taken off for his stupid girlfriend's the second I arrived. Then again, I didn't need yet another man pretending to be my father. "Just promise you'll be nice."

"I'm always—I'll try."

It was the best I could hope for.

I must have smiled for a hundred pictures, in various locations, before Frank showed up. Despite my fears, Jacob and Leah were almost civil, which must have been a first for them. It was actually quite sweet.

Once the torture with the pictures had ceased, Frank took my arm and led me out the door, to the waiting van. Chris had offered up his car to 'the gang' for the night. Now if only I knew who Chris was.

"You're look really nice—beautiful," Frank stammered beside me. He was much more eloquent when engaged in more intellectual pursuits, but I found myself blushing anyway.

"Thank you. You look very nice too," I said, even if I privately thought we were both too casually dressed. Maybe I was obsessing about his clothing choices because the van was getting far too close.

The car door opened from the inside and then I came face to face with the dreaded gang.

They were actually much nicer than I had anticipated. There were three other boys, including the one driving, and one other girl, Annie. All four of them were from La Push, though Annie was just a junior. She was wearing a dress, though it was markedly informal, and her thick, dark hair was also down. So much for making the event special.

The close quarters with so many humans didn't bother me as much as I had feared. Yes, they did smell rather delicious, but the smell wasn't that overwhelming. I would be all right, even if my family didn't stake out the party. I didn't think they would. There was too much of a chance that Edward might hear a casual thought about me that wasn't as appropriate as he would like and there was no way Bella would let him charge through the party on some sort of killing spree. At least, I hopped not. No, there was no way. She had promised.

It turned out that Frank's friends were even more socially awkward than I was. Two of the guys were painfully shy, but I managed to coax a response out of them eventually. Plus, when Frank mentioned I was already on level 70, despite having only been playing for a few months, they lit up and bombarded me with details and strategies and offers of alliances. They were sort of cute, all enthusiastic like that.

They were half of the people I had to deal with. The ones we met at the high school gym were just as nice, if not as gregarious as the people I usually associated with. Luckily, Frank really was there to listen to every word I said, and Annie knew everyone just about as well as I did so she was just as eager as I was to become friends.

The dance was a celebration of the end of the first half of the year and the arrival of winter break, so the hall had been decorated with mostly hand cut snowflakes. Alice would have loved the decorating committee's enthusiasm, even if their inability to cut straight would have horrified her.

"You're hanging around afterwards, right?" Annie asked as we waited for the room to fill up.

"Yes. Are you staying, too?"

"Yeah. Though if Chris pukes on this dress," she said with a death glare at said boy that Leah would have been jealous of, "He's going to have to find himself a new girlfriend."

"That was one time," Frank's friend complained.

"One time too many."

"I said I was sorry. Come on, let's dance."

He pulled her away, onto the semi-crowded dance floor, the two of them play arguing the entire way there. I turned to ask Frank, "Did he get sick?"

"It was a wizard party," Frank said with a smile. "And Chris has always been a lightweight."

I knew Frank and his friends loved their fantasy worlds, but..."What are you talking about?"

"What?"

"Chris is far too heavy to be classified as a lightweight. And I can't even come up with the reference point for wizard party."

"Seriously?"

"When are we not serious?"

"True," he agreed, unthinkingly. "Uh, you make wizard staffs out of empty beer cans...but Chris isn't really a big drinker. He just really wanted to make a staff and...it didn't go so well."

"Oh. So we're going to get drunk after this?"

"We've got other shit, if you'd rather. About the only thing my dad's good for." A tiny frown came over his features. "Do you do...anything like that?"

I think my answer must have been fairly obvious, because he hurried to assure me, "We can just find some place quiet to talk. Jimmy's house is on the beach and there's lots of room."

"We can do whatever normal people do," I assured him. Normal adolescent experiences, right Jacob? I was sure this wasn't exactly what he meant, though he had to know what happened at this type of adolescent gathering. It hadn't been that long since he had graduated high school and even without vampire memory, he had to remember what he had done. Or maybe not. Both alcohol and drugs were suspected causes of brain cell death.

"I'm not exactly normal," he promised, bushing back one of the braids in his hair. It was still a disaster, though I think he had at least tried to comb it. As reassuring as having the human being telling the half-vampire that he was a little bit different was, I couldn't help rolling my eyes. I was glad when he stammered out, "Do you want to dance or would you rather stand here?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the rest of the congregation had moved out onto the dance floor. My family had taught me everything from the tango to the waltz—what the teenagers were doing couldn't exactly be classified as dancing. Still, everyone seemed to be doing it and I could mimic action easily enough.

"We can dance."

His hand was cool and rough, but reassuring as he led me onto the dance floor. It was much better than when I had come to the playground as a child. Though people did look at me strangely, it was mostly because than found my visually appealing, not because I was so clearly different. I wasn't the only one from Forks who had managed to garner an invitation, though was I the most unsure.

That would concern me later. Right then, I had to figure out how to 'dance'.

And even that was less complicated than figuring out how to navigate around Jimmy's house.

Frank's socially awkward friends were far less quiet after they had one or two or lots of something to drink. Crowded together in Jimmy's living room—where were the boy's parents?—they kept shouting over each other. The smell was a little overwhelming, especially when combined with the sweat that the packed, overheated room was creating. And their fascination with a ping pong ball that they lacked the hand-eye coordination to throw properly was not as amusing as they thought it was.

I had been having a nice time talking to Annie, but she was currently in the corner shoving her tongue into her boyfriend's mouth for the whole room to see. Taking another sip of the horrible drink Frank had handed me when we arrived after the dance, I tried not to gag. Human food was terrible—human drinks were worse.

"You could just say you want to get out of here," Frank offered from beside me.

"I'm having fun."

"Sure."

I took another sip and realized I was not going to adapt anytime soon. "What would you say if I said I wasn't?"

"Well, I suppose as your boyfriend it would be my duty to suggest we go find a place to talk."

"The beach?"

"Won't you be a little cold?" No, but I didn't say that, because Frank was suggesting, "We could go upstairs. Only—if you wanted. I don't—I just don't want you to get cold."

If it had been Jacob with me, it would have been the truth. It would have been only loving concern for my health, even though treating me as a child did not help his tiny brain understand such loyalty to me should not prevent him from pursuing a relationship with Leah. Frank's motivations were far less pure. And far less annoying.

I nodded and he helped me up, so I kissed him, a quick thank you because I really hadn't wanted to stay in that room. My head was beginning to pound. Taking my hand, he pulled me through the house, up the stairs and to the door on the right.

"I think Jimmy said you and Annie would get this one—it's the nicest and everyone else is probably just going to crash on the couches or something. Annie might not even come up," Frank babbled, "She'll probably stay with Chris. Those two are always attached at the hip, we barely get to talk to him when she's around. Not that—"

I put my hand on Frank's mouth, to silence him. "My brother's not going to jump out of the closet," I told him. "Not even Edward's that good."

"Twins sometimes claim psychic connections."

"We're lousy twins," I assured him, hating the deception, but knowing the truth would only scare him away. I took a step closer, so the only way he could get away from the door was to go through me. "Promise."

Is this the sort of experience Jacob wanted me to have? Maybe. That was the worst part, I thought. If I said I wanted this, to press up against a boy who wasn't Jacob, to wrap my arms around a neck that didn't belong to a werewolf Alpha, Jacob might very well congratulate me. And still ignore Leah.

I would worry about that another night, because Frank ducked his head and finally kissed me, thanks to the combination of proximity, hormones and alcohol. I deepened the kiss, even as his hand slipped to the hem of Leah's shirt.

"There's a premise I wanted to test," I murmured, stepping back from a reluctant Frank, who was staring at me in a way Jacob never would let himself.

"What is it?"

I longed to just reach out and explain to him what I had planned, but that would have just sent him screaming from the room. Malfunctioning power or not, I wanted to show him what I was. All I did was sit down on the bed.

"I think this would be more fun if you took off your shirt."

"Funny," he said, crossing over to me, "I had a similar hypothesis."

TBC... for the record, they didn't do anything TOO Edward-unapproved. Yeesh.


	41. Chapter 41

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Chapter 41

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"Of course today would be sunny," Annie complained as she sat down beside me. "The only nice day we're going to get all winter and I'm too hung over to enjoy it."

I reached inside my handbag and came out with a pair of sunglasses, holding them out. "Here."

Annie blinked her tired eyes and then laughed. She took the sunglasses and asked, "What else do you have in there?"

"You really don't want to know. I could probably live out of it for a year."

Alice might not be able to see me, but she could still tell what the humans around me would require. And Alice was a helpful sort of person.

"That's kind of awesome. Thanks for the glasses."

"Thank you for the ride."

She shrugged. Frank had been going to drive me home, but when he talked to his father this morning he had discovered that no car would be forthcoming. Annie said her mother wouldn't mind driving me to the Clearwater's, since it was on the way, so Frank had reluctantly kissed me goodbye and started the long march home. He could have stayed with the two of us, but when Annie offered to drive him as well he had refused. He was going to walk home, like his father wanted.

"I just don't know why they're so late. My sister's piano lessons should have ended half an hour ago."

"I don't mind." It was nice, sitting around talking to a normal human girl. "You have a sister?"

"Yeah. Just turned eleven. Naomi was a little bit of a mistake," she admitted cheerfully, "Sort of. My parents wanted three in a row, but they had some trouble after me. So, we got stuck with the brat. What about you? What's it like, having a twin?"

"Suffocating. He thinks it's his job to protect me all the time."

I wasn't even sure who I was complaining about; there were just too many options.

"I always wanted a twin," she admitted. "But, like, a girl. A built in best friend type thing. Though my mother would have so dressed us in like matching outfits or something equally lame."

Annie could never meet Alice. If she heard an idea like that...I shuddered. She already liked to color coordinate our entire family. There was no way I would let her dress me like my father.

We were trying to come up with a situation in which it was okay to torture people by making them where the same outfits—Annie didn't even like the idea of matching bridesmaids dresses, insisting that only the color should stay the same—when her mother finally pulled up in front of the house.

"About time," Annie said.

My plan had been to stand by silently as Annie politely asked if I could have a ride as well. The silent part happened, but not out of politeness's sake. I was simply too scared to talk. Because Annie's mother was very familiar.

I glanced back at the car, to the young girl sitting in the front seat. Though it had been almost two years since I had seen her, it was obvious that Annie's little sister Naomi was the very same Naomi who had been my close friend on the playground of La Push. Stuck by panic as I was, I didn't hear mother and daughter discuss bringing me along, at least not until Annie grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the car.

"Thank you, Mrs Hamilton," I said automatically, then realized I had never asked Annie's last name. The girl herself didn't notice, or assumed Frank had told me, and the older woman didn't pay any attention at all.

I climbed into the backseat and hoped she would continue to ignore me.

"Thanks again," Annie said, handing me the sunglasses back. "I'm so tired I could sleep for a week. And, wow, this music is not helping to keep me up. Nomes, can't you find something else?"

"This is Tchaikovsky," she protested. Opus 40, to be precise. "I have to listen. The recital's coming up."

"Didn't he do anything less boring?"

"Mom, tell Annie it's not boring."

"Annie, if you don't like your sister's music you can walk home."

"Such love," she laughed. "Can I trade you my sister for your brother?"

Mrs Hamilton interrupted: "Please don't barter away my children. I happen to be very fond of them."

"Ha," Naomi said, turning around in her chair to stick her tongue out at her sister, who despite being over five years older, stuck her tongue out back.

"You wouldn't want my brother any way," I said. "He's obsessed with Debussy."

"Nessie?"

Naomi was staring at me, lines appearing on her tiny forehead. It didn't make sense to her, but the resemblance was there.

The car went quiet, except for the plinking of piano keys. Mrs Hamilton glanced at me in the rear-view mirror and frowned. It wasn't a common name, after all. But humans were not inclined to suspect the supernatural unless they had no other option. That just left them exceedingly puzzled, but nowhere near close to an answer.

"Get your own friends, twerp," Annie said, shooing her sister away. The spell was broken. Naomi shrugged and went back to staring at the window, her mother had to concentrate on making a turn and Annie could have cared less that her sister knew my name. She just started telling me about everything she was not going to do today in order to recuperate.

Her plans made me relax, and even got me to laugh. Still, when I watched the car drive away, I felt a great surge of relief.

Perhaps it was a good thing the people of La Push were used to ignoring the giant 'bears' in their vicinity, I thought as I trudged to the door. Hopefully, they would be content never to discover the truth. Would Jacob let me stay for dinner, or would he want to handle the Hamiltons first? I hoped he would let me stay, at least long enough to shower, so I could return home looking a little fresher.

I pushed open the door, knowing they would have left it unlocked for me. "Hello?" I called out.

"Hey, Nessie," Jacob called from the kitchen. I had barely dropped my bags on the ground before he was hugging me. Leah was behind him and she was the one who asked, "Did you have fun?"

"So much. Thank you," I told them both. Then I noticed Jacob's appearance. "What have you been up to? You look...flustered."

He sighed. "There's something wrong with the kitchen sink. I've been at it all morning. I think I'm close though."

"It's better than Comedy Central," Leah told me. He glared, but she just laughed. "So, details."

We sat down and I told them everything that had happened to me in the past twelve hours. Mostly everything. I didn't bother concealing much, because they weren't that much older than I was and they weren't my parents. Whatever our strange relationship could be defined as, they weren't going to condemn me for any kind of behavior. Only if it put me or others and danger, which is why I made sure to tell them I had never done anything that had inhibited my ability to resist human blood. It would take a lot to affect my system.

I finished up with the car ride back, which distracted them from any thoughts about sleeping arrangements.

"Cool," Jacob said when I finished.

"Not cool," Leah corrected. "They could figure it out."

"They didn't—or they did and just don't care. I don't think it's going to be a big deal. You okay, Nessie?"

"Of course."

Leah was glaring at him, so he was the one who had to laugh. "You're falling asleep on our couch. Go upstairs and take a nap."

I would have protested, but a yawn prevented me. It was a clear sign of defeat. After hugging them once again, I headed up the stairs, to my room. They were arguing behind me, but I was sure they would figure out the proper course of action before I woke up. As I lay down, I found myself blushing. It had been a memorable dance, after all...

"Wake up."

"Mmm?"

"Nessie, get up. You've been asleep for four hours."

I opened my eyes, to find Leah shaking me none too gently on the shoulder. "I'm up," I muttered, pushing her hand away. "Really? Four hours?"

"Yup. It's getting ridiculous. Dinner's almost ready."

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and tried to get my bearings. Leah was shifting impatiently at the edge of the bed, clearly hoping to get out of here quickly.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I sat up, pushing the sheets aside. Since I had fallen asleep in my clothes, the only thing left to do was stretch.

"What do you mean, what's wrong?"

"You look upset. Did Jacob do something to the sink?" I cringed at the thought of all the things he could have 'accidently' done with the best of intentions and no practical knowledge. "I'm sure if you called a real plumber—"

"The sink's fine." She walked along the side of her room, looking anywhere but me. "There's nothing—it's nothing."

"Liar. Please tell me."

"I'm fine."

"Leah," I sighed. Just because she wanted to be difficult didn't mean I was going to give up. But what she said next caught me off guard.

"He doesn't care."

"What?"

"This whole time I just thought it was some stupid macho act, that deep inside it was really killing him. That he couldn't breathe during the day, couldn't sleep at night, because the thought of you with anyone else was driving him crazy. I thought he was just putting on a show for all of us, just because you needed him to, because it wouldn't be fair for him to try and run your life, but...he really _just_ _doesn't care. _Jacob is happy that you're with another guy. Truly happy. Ecstatic, even, that you're with someone else. How does that make any sense?"

"He just wants me happy. That's the way it's always been."

"That's not fair!"

"I know." Too well, I knew. "I never said it was. It's just the way it is, Leah. The way it will always be, even though I know it's not fair to him. Why else did you think I want you two together? I don't want him waiting around passing, watching his life pass without him."

"Too bad it doesn't work that way," she all but snarled.

"What?"

"You're it," she said, too tired to scream so it came out as a whisper instead. "The be all and end all. If he can't have you...it's not even a question of having you. All that matters in his life is you. If you don't want him, it's all good, because he's happy standing around helping you out anyway. Need a best man for your wedding to someone else? He's there. Need a babysitter for you're not-his kids? See how fast he'll get there. All he wants is to take care of you. And if that leaves him alone for the rest of eternity than he is fine with that because it's all the better to serve you."

"Don't say things like that," I said, just as quietly, just as angrily. "I don't want—I _won't _take everything from him like that. You know that. I want him happy, too. Happy with...whoever."

"It doesn't work that way."

"It will. I'll figure it out, Leah, don't worry. I'll find a way so he's happy too, no matter what I have to do to give him to you."

It came out wrong. I was tired but it was no excuse. Everything I wanted to say to Leah for almost a year came out in precisely the one way she would never accept it. She did not appreciate my mistake, nor allow me to apologize. She just started yelling.

"You can't just give him to me! What's wrong with you? He's not a plaything to be past around. He's a human being, but I guess you don't know about that. How dare you? How could you—?"

Her voice cracked, stopping her and I tried to explain that I only said it because that was what he wanted, when he tore himself away from me long enough to know himself. I wasn't just arbitrarily trying to control him. The words were just habit. "Leah—"

"How can you talk about him that way? How could you, if you loved him?" The anger fled replaced by something far more terrible. It was hard to watch her pain. "You don't see him the way I do, you don't care about him the I do, but none of that matters because you're all he thinks about. It doesn't make sense, it doesn't...he doesn't care. He would give up everything to be with you, anyway. The least you could do is appreciate it. I thought you were different, I thought you had changed. I thought you stopped looking at him like he was your funny, furry toy. _You_ can't_ just give him to me_."

"I just meant—"

"How _dare_ you, you stupid, spoiled, self-centered—"

The air ruptured, the sound echoing like thunder, tearing at the world, pure rage unleashed. I watched, unable to move, as her body rippled. She seemed to dissolve inside herself, rearranging into a new configuration, fur erupting from everywhere, coating her, failing to protect her. Her body mass swelled, surged, everything changing, nothing staying the same.

Except her eyes.

Her eyes held tears—fury, hate, love. I don't think I ever really understood Leah Clearwater, not properly. I'm not sure I wanted to, really, but she had beautiful eyes.

I didn't move. I wasn't surprised at what was happening, maybe only shocked it hadn't happened sooner. With my senses, I had plenty of time to move away. Only I couldn't. I wasn't some masochist. I didn't want her to attack me, even if I had taken so much from her. But I couldn't seem to move out of her way.

I thought it was different between us, now. I knew she would always pick him over me; I wasn't delusional. On the list of people she loved, I wasn't remotely near the top—but I thought I had finally made the list. I thought she loved me and now I couldn't make myself move. If she wanted to attack me, then let her, because I didn't want to be around to deal with the fact she didn't love me enough to stop.

But she did.

My arms went up to protect my face and I cringed, fearing the feel of teeth on skin. I still watched, as she flew through the air. Mid-flight it was as if she had been caught by an invisible hand, twisting, spinning in front of me. And she stopped. Just as suddenly as it had began, it was over. The grey wolf wasn't lunging for my throat anymore.

She skidded to a halt in the middle of the room, claws digging into the carpet of the floor. I watched her as she paced, unsteady and unsure, as I wondered at what she would decide to do next.

She stayed on the ground for a minute, just standing there, staring at me and shivering. Finally, she barked at me and moved her head. When I didn't react the way she wanted me to, she moved it again until I understood she wanted me to go to the bed.

I picked up the sheet and draped it over her canine form before backing off. Under the sheet, I could see her body reassembling herself, returning to its human form once more. Human Leah got up, wrapping the sheet under her arms like it was a towel. Pushing back the shame with a rueful smile, she said, "I loved those clothes."

Her voice shook, just a little bit, but enough that I noticed. She hadn't lost control like that in a very long time, I was sure. And neither of us knew how it changed things, now that she had lost her head about this.

"I'll buy you new clothes," I offered.

She just shook her, laughed a little bit, and when she spoke her voice was tired, old and sad. "I'm sorry. So sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have..."

The words didn't come now. She had said too much before.

"Me neither," I said. "I'm sorry, too."

"Not as sorry as I am."

I hugged her. I didn't know what else to do because I couldn't make this right. I couldn't fix it—I didn't know how. I was failing. I didn't mean to but I was and I couldn't stop it so I hugged her instead.

She hugged me back, her arms tight. "I didn't—I didn't mean to lose it like that. I guess they are right, I really am a crazy bitch."

"Boy are stupid," I reminded her.

She snorted, but didn't get to respond, as we both heard the heavy footsteps coming down the hall. The door opened and Jacob stuck his head in the room, and, looking between the two of us, surprised, said, "Uh, Leah? Could you stop trying to seduce my imprint?"

Neither of us understood his strange comment, not until we glanced at her sheet-covered body. That plus the fact she was still holding me and Jacob still had the maturity of a fifteen year old boy and his insinuation was clear.

"Grow up, Jake."

"Really, Jacob," I sighed, "The world does not exist to fulfill you're stupid fantasies."

He chuckled, but stopped quickly enough. "You okay, Leah?"

"Fine. Just everybody get out so I can change."

The look on his face said, he didn't quite believe her, but he moved out of the way to let me pass through the door. "You sure? You look worse than usual."

"Drop it."

Her tone demanded he listen, so he did, shutting the door behind him. Jacob followed me down the stairs, the two of us leaving Leah behind.

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TBC...


	42. Chapter 42

Warning: My apologies if you find anything in this chapter offensive but...that's the point, after all. I hope you understand that.

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Chapter 42

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"He broke up with me."

I managed to get that much out before the tears interrupted, suffocating the rest. Luckily, Leah was already right there, pulling me inside the house so she could hug me. "Oh, Nessie. Did you walk all the way over here?"

I nodded, glad for the distraction. "We were by the cl-cl-cliffs but I left my c-c-car here and I didn't want Fr-Fr-Frank to give me..."

Leah's warm arms tightened. Then she let out a stream of words that helped, a little bit—if she knew anything, Leah knew how to be mean in the worst possible way. Right now, I was glad to hear her vitriol directed at my ex-boyfriend.

"Come on," she said finally. "You should sit down."

"Are we going to eat ice cream together?" I asked as she led me to the couch.

That made her laugh, softly, so as not to disturb my tears. "Sure, sweetie. We'll watch movies that make us cry, eat ice cream...I'll even do your nails."

"Thank you."

She disappeared into the kitchen, where I could hear her go to the backyard. Judging by the sounds I had heard when climbing the front steps, the household had been engaged in a snowball fight before I arrived. Now they stopped. Once Leah had explained what had happened, Jacob came to talk to me. Seth had to stay in the kitchen to get yelled at, like he was the one who had dumped me, and not just the one person who hadn't wanted to treat me like I was six.

"Hey," Jacob said, sitting down beside me. "You okay?"

"Dumb question," I muttered, as I rested my head on his shoulder. "Leah's going to help me."

"I hear ice cream's going to be involved, so I think I'm going to help, too. If you want."

"Promise not to eat it all?"

"Promise." I could see him struggling not to say more, but he couldn't help himself. "That kid is so dead."

"Jacob..."

"I can't believe that asshole—"

"Jacob, please stop."

He sighed, shifting in his seat, impatient to go out and avenge my honor but knowing that would only anger me. After swallowing down his most basic instinct—namely, to go forth and commit random acts of violence—Jacob asked, "What do you need me to do?"

"Leah said we need a movie that will make us cry. Suggestions?"

"I bawled like a little girl during _Friday Night Lights._"

Leah returned from the kitchen carrying three tubs of ice cream and multiple spoons in time to announce, "We are not watching football movies, Jake."

"What if they're great football movies?"

She didn't dignify that with a response, just handed out the food and listed off some more appropriate suggestions. I dug into the ice cream, enjoying how the frozen food seemed to numb everything else.

It didn't stay frozen for long, of course, situated on my lap between two werewolves, but still. It was the thought that counted.

I ended up using up most of the Kleenex in the house during our movie marathon, but I managed to finish the entire tub of ice cream before it melted. Thankfully, the sick feeling in my stomach was now from over eating and not because I was a failure as a human being.

We were in the middle of _Casablanca_ when Seth came into the room. "I'm supposed to go over to the Cullens now," he said tentatively.

"I can give you a ride," I agreed. Not that I wanted to stand up, but I did have to go home eventually. With my freshly painted nails, I might even have been calm enough to be able to order everyone to avoid harming Frank.

"You can just move your car," Seth offered, even as Jacob said, "Should you really be driving?"

"Seth can drive, then."

"I don't—"Seth bit down his protest in the face of Jacob's glare. "Fine. Whenever you're ready to leave."

"Thank you," I said as I hugged Leah. "And please make sure he doesn't kill Frank."

Jacob protested his innocence, even as Leah said, "I'll try."

I found Seth in the driveway, holding out the keys. I took them. It was a Ferrari, after all. Seth didn't comment, just quietly got into the passenger seat. Taking a deep breath, I got in as well. Without breaking the silence, either by speaking or by turning on the radio, I began to drive.

"I can't believe he broke up with you," Seth said finally. It seemed best to ignore that particularly inane comment, but I couldn't ignore the next one. "He was crazy about you."

I didn't want to hear that, how badly I had messed up. Because I had liked him but I hadn't loved him. But people were different. I had figured that out a long time ago and if he felt—what had I done?

Instead of explaining this to Seth, I became petty instead. "You never need an excuse. All you do is look at the calendar."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his jaw tighten, but I was too much of a coward to take my eyes off the road and see how badly I had hurt him. If it hadn't been for the very real possibility that Seth would hate me when I explained what had actually happened, I never would have tried Leah's strategy of dealing with people. It was too cruel.

Finally, he said, "You never did ask me why I do that."

"You have an actual reason?"

"Yeah. It's not just a random thing I do for fun."

"You mean it's not just some misogynistic bullshit that you use as an excuse so you don't have to feel guilty about playing the field and ignoring how women have feelings too? Because that's what it sounds like. No offence."

"Wow," Seth said. "Except for the end, you sounded almost exactly like my mother just then. I don't—maybe it is. I like to think it's not, but maybe I _am_ a jerk and just don't realize it. Would you like to hear my reasoning, anyway?"

"Sure."

"So...in high school, I had this girlfriend, when I was a sophomore. She was a senior, but I looked twenty-five, so we were sort of the same age. Anyway, she hadn't been planning to go away once she graduated, but she worked so hard you wouldn't believe that last year and suddenly it was an actual possibility."

I tried not to smile, because this was clearly a serious story, but I wondered if Seth ever realized what had inspired his girlfriend. Probably not. He wasn't the brightest that way.

"Our one year anniversary fell in the middle of July. So I go over, we celebrate, and as I'm about to leave she kind of just announces she doesn't want the hassle of a long-distance relationship if we're just going to break up in six months. I think I was sixteen, max, at this point, so I just came out and admitted, that's probably what was going to happen. I really liked her, but...yeah. I wasn't as big on the future as she was. So at the end of the summer, we both just agreed to break up and that would be it. We're still friends, actually, just nothing romantic."

"It makes sense," I agreed. Seth rolled his eyes, just a little bit.

"You would think that." Before I could ask what he meant by that, he continued the story. "I haven't been able to stop doing it, though. When I get to a year, I sort of have this...compulsion where I just have to figure out where it's all going. And if I can't see it lasting forever, I wait a month—because you just can't dump a girl on your one year anniversary, it's just not right—and then I wait twelve days so it's not obvious that it's a year and a month and then I..."

"Dump her mercilessly."

I tried to make it a joke, but it was too close to the truth for Seth to do anything but cringe. "It's a waste of her time."

"So you've never actually been in love? That's seems kind of sad, Seth."

"What?"

"You've dumped them all. Because you can't see yourselves with them, because you don't love them."

"Always with the logic." Seth was staring out the window now, not looking at me at all, now. "I didn't tell you what happens when you get to a year and you _can_ see it working out forever."

"What happens?"

"You get really happy, for a second, and you can't stop smiling for a good while because she's that amazing that the idea of always being with her just kind of blows your mind." He sighed. "And then you imagine her waking up in the middle of the night, wondering where you are. And then you picture her with Emily's scars and you wonder how you could possibly risk it. And then you realize you love her too much to tell her there are monsters under the bed. So you break up with her and she cries and you're the prick you didn't want to be and if you're really lucky, she starts working at the restaurant where you bring your next date and she never talks to you again."

"I'm sorry, Seth."

"It's not that big a deal," he lied. "But if that's what happened to you, I want you to know I get it. I can see you doing that."

"That's not what happened," I mumbled. After he had been so devastatingly honest with me, I couldn't keep lying, even if I wasn't brave enough to admit the truth just yet. "But are you saying we just _can't_ date humans? That there's just no point?"

"I'm just saying it's hard."

"More like impossible. If you really think that, if you thought all along it would end up like this, why would you encourage me?"

"Because it can be really good while it lasts. And you wanted my help. In fact, you ordered me to help you. You're old enough—it's not my job to protect you."

I guess Seth really was unique. He also had a point. If he hadn't helped, I would have just found a way around him, that's how desperate I had been to prove I was mature enough to be allowed contact with the outside world. Maybe I could start being mature now, even if it did make me a little sick.

"Chances are you're going to imprint on one of the other hybrids," I said slowly. "I can ask them to come to Forks, any time you want."

"They're your friends. If you don't want them around..."

"Seth."

"Seriously, Nessie. I'm only twenty-one. I don't want to get married next week and once you start dating your imprint it's all just so inevitable that...besides, my mother's going to hate her. It's best to put off that drama for as long as possible."

"You're mom's not going to hate them. Just because they're evil and scary..."

He laughed. "Well, if you have such a glowing opinion of them."

"You would probably get along with them." Seth got along with everyone.

"I'm not sure how to take that," he laughed. "How about, when I want to, I'll tell you, okay?"

"Okay." As I switched lanes, I said, "Your mom doesn't hate all your girlfriends."

"Uh, yeah she does. It's just her thing." I could hear his fingers tapping against the car door, and I cringed when he said, "You ever going to tell me what happened?"

If I didn't, Frank would. And Seth couldn't hear it from someone else, when I wasn't there to defend myself. I had to admit to what I had done. This had seemed much easier when I was planning it out. "We had a fight."

"I got that part. About what?"

"Karl Pearson."

"You _cheated_ on him?"

Seth sounded so shocked that I couldn't help giggling, even as I half-cried. "No, Seth, I did not cheat. Karl Pearson has been dead for over fifty years."

"That's not really a big deal in our world." It made me smile, so he went back to being serious. "Am I supposed to know who he is, then?"

"Not really. Most people don't. But some of his scientific postulations influenced Einstein's work on relativity."

"You fought over relativity?" I took my eyes off the road long enough to see Seth smiling. "You two are such nerds."

"Pearson was also the first holder of the Galton Chair in Eugenics at the University of London."

The smile faded, dimmed. Even Jacob would have started to suspect. All Seth did was carefully say, "I see."

"I venture to assert, then," I reluctantly quoted, "that the struggle for existence between white and red man, painful and even terrible as it was in its details, has given us a good far outbalancing its immediate evil. In place of the red man, contributing practically nothing to the work and thought of the world, we have a great nation, mistress of many arts, and able, with its youthful imagination and fresh, untrammeled impulses, to contribute much to the common stock of civilized man. Against that we have only to put the romantic sympathy for the Red Indian generated by the novels of Cooper and the poems of Longfellow, and then—see how little it weighs in the balance...Pearson, National Life from the Standpoint of Science."

It was painfully silent in the car after that.

"You should never say something like that in front of my mother," Seth said eventually. "She'll kill you, even if you are just quoting."

"I wouldn't."

"Okay. Okay...why did it seem like a good idea to bring this guy up?"

"Pearson made valuable contributions to the way we see the universe...antimatter, fourth dimensions...I don't agree with everything he ever said, but he did have some good points. It's like Wagner. Sure, he was a raging antisemite and the Nazis adored him, but his music, Seth, his music is absolutely marvelous. And it's Israel's prerogative to ban his work—even though he died decades before the rise of Hitler—but that doesn't erase the fact Wagner wrote wonderful, inventive, _heart-wrenching_ music."

"It's not completely banned."

"What?"

Despite the fact we were having a rather serious discussion, Seth couldn't help adding, "A friend of mine, he was visiting some relatives...they redub shows and stuff there. He was watching Bugs Bunny...it's still Wagner, in the background. You know..." he started making noises, attempting to recreate part of Wagner's _Ring._ Only from a cartoon standpoint.

"I didn't know that," I admitted. "But the point I was trying to make is that Frank should have realized that just because Pearson advocated some really terrible ideas, doesn't mean everything he said wasn't of any value."

"Nessie, you can't set people up for tests they're going to fail. Not one person in a billion is going to stand there and not care that you're insulting...everything he knows about himself. That's just not happening."

"I realized that."

"Then why would you do something like that?"

I stared out the window, not wanting to look at him, not wanting him to see the guilt on my face, the guilt I deserved to feel. I really didn't want to be having this conversation with him. I really didn't want to be having this conversation with anyone. This was not something I wanted to make public—but I had to tell. Postponing it would only make everything worse.

"I'm tired of hurting her. I'm hurting her and I hate it. It has to stop."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your sister. I need to fix this mess with her."

"I'm not as smart as you, Nessie, so you're going to have to go a little slower. What does any of this have to do with Leah?"

"I want to help her and I can't have a boyfriend to do that."

"So you pissed Frank off so he would break up with you?"

Is that what I had done? Not entirely. "Maybe it was a test," I confessed, "Maybe if he had been that incredible that he could understand the point I was making then maybe I could have justified hurting her just to have him. But he's not. He's wonderful but he's not...he's just human. He's just a regular guy and I...I can't like him." My voice cracked, just a little bit. "I really did like him. But I love her."

Seth sounded very hesitant when he asked, "What exactly are you going to do, Nessie?"

"I'm not a hundred percent sure, yet. I have to talk to Jacob first. But I will sort this all out. I really did like Frank," I whispered. "Even if he did sometimes think he was smarter than me. He was a really nice guy."

"Yeah."

"I don't like thinking he hates me now." I took a deep breath, to stop my voice from shaking. "But realistically, it was never going to work out. He didn't trust me enough to tell me the things that were truly important to him—I still don't even know how his mother died, you know. And he only liked me because I'm brilliant and beautiful."

Seth snorted, and when I turned to glare, it turned into full-blown laughter. "Stop it," I demanded, but he couldn't seem to control himself.

"Just those two little things," he teased.

"They're both just the result of fortunate genetics. It's nothing I should be proud of."

"I'm sure there were other things." When I didn't answer, he snorted again. "You can't be serious. You're awesome, Ness. What's not to like?"

It usually didn't bother me when Seth treated me like I was special (the way I hated it when everyone else did it). That was how Seth treated _everyone_. Treating me like I was amazing was Seth's way of treating me normally. Usually, I appreciated normal. Today, it just annoyed me.

"Glad you were able to get so specific," I muttered. Seeing as we were heading down my driveway, I made sure to add, "Please don't tell anyone what happened. I know I should but I don't want to have to explain myself just yet. Not until I figure out what I'm going to do."

"Sure."

I parked the car and turned off the engine. We both just sat there for a second, before Seth got out of the car. I cringed when the door slammed shut, though logically it was probably just careless werewolf strength and not a sign he was disgusted with me. But what if I was wrong? That seemed to be all I could do lately.

I hurried out of the car and managed to catch him on the steps. All I had to do was brush his forearm and he stopped, still frowning.

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" He looked honestly puzzled and I felt myself exhaling. "I'm kind of scared you're going to do something really stupid in the near future but I'm not mad."

"I—I'm just trying to do the right thing."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive. Just...be careful, okay?"

I had to look down, because it was too hard watching him be so honestly concerned for Edward's little girl. "Okay. Help me stop my family from killing Frank?"

"Deal. Knuckles?"

"Knuckles."

We had barely bumped fists before the door flew open and a cascade of my female relations came flying towards me, cooing over me. Edward must have told them what had happened, plucking the events from Seth's mind. Safe in their arms, I tried not to think too much about I was going to do, now that I was free to do it.

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TBC...


	43. Chapter 43

A/N: Yes, I'm a coward. At this point, you either trust me or you don't. I'm kind of afraid to find out the answer. Here's hoping.

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Chapter 43

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First off, I needed the carrot.

It was hard, figuring out something that Jacob would want above all things. He had never been very concerned with material wealth—almost the opposite. The only reason he could possibly have for still driving the death trap more commonly referred to as the Rabbit was to prove fancy possessions did not matter to him.

Which was all well and good from the perspective of his spiritual well-being, but that did not help me. I needed something shiny and expensive.

I asked Embry and Quil for help.

Embry babbled inanely for quite some time, until Quil hit him on the head and they started fighting right in front of me. Their muffled shouts allowed me to discover that Embry's obsessive remembrances of my best friend were driving the rest of the pack crazy and that Quil was lousy at dodging punches, even if he was quite good at taking them.

When they finally stopped trying to kill each other long enough to speak to me, they just sort of looked at each other and shrugged.

"Just make sure it's fast," Quil said finally.

"And has an engine," Embry contributed. "Or is that too expensive?"

"Pretend money doesn't matter," I ordered. "What would he want?"

The two of them looked at each other, grins slowly materializing as inspiration struck. As one, they announced:

"Veyron."

Second off, I needed to remove the stick, so to speak.

I needed my parents, specifically Edward, out of the house.

That wouldn't have been too hard to accomplish, except Jacob's present had caused some raised eyebrows, and Rosalie had always been good at smelling blood. Somehow, she always managed to keep Edward around the house when I didn't want him to be. In order to get around her, I went to Seth.

Who, for the first time in his life, decided to be difficult.

"Edward's already mad at me," he complained. "I don't know what you want him gone for, but I'm pretty sure it'll only make things worse."

"People don't get mad at you. And you won't be responsible for what I do—he'll be so busy being angry with me he won't care that you aided and abetted."

"Exactly what crime am I helping to commit?" he demanded.

"It's not technically—Seth, just take him out. It'll be fun for both of you and he can't blame you because you didn't know what was going to happen."

"Not reassuring."

But he agreed in the end. I had to help him with some work thing later, but he agreed. My parents would spend the day at a baseball game with Seth.

Third off, I needed Jacob.

Even that proved a little bit of a challenge. Leah was the one who answered the phone.

"I can go wake him up if you want. Late patrol or not, there's no excuse for a grown man to sleep until eleven."

"It's fine, Leah," I hurried to interrupt. "Could you just make sure he comes by this afternoon?"

"I don't mind screaming at him for you."

"Unnecessary. But thank you." I took a deep breath and added, "Leah?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Do you...um, remember, um, after the dance? You said some stuff?" The other end of the phone was silent, so I pressed on. "You said I was his only...do you think you were right?"

"Yeah," she said quietly.

"Leah? I want you to know I didn't want him tied to me like that. I just want him to do whatever he wants, only it doesn't work. I'm sorry about that."

"Shut up, kid," she announced. "It's less your fault than it is his, and it's not his fault at all. Fate just really hates me. So what time do you want him over?"

"Two?"

"Sounds good."

And with Leah's quasi-blessing, I went to Alice's bedroom and knocked quietly. Normally, I would have gone to Rosalie, but today she would have refused to help me. I wasn't even sure if Alice would help, but I needed some supervision.

I knew everything, but only at the theoretical level. The practical application frankly terrified me. But it had to be done. We had waited too long already.

"Hi Nessie," Alice said brightly.

"Hi. Do you have time for a makeover this morning?"

A huge grin split across Alice's face—she would hate herself later, when she realized just had badly her gift had failed her when it came to me, but for now she was happy. She was dancing across the floor as I thankfully followed her into the bathroom to be beautified.

By the time Jacob arrived at a quarter past two, I had been sprayed so much I was surprised any part of my body could move without Alice's express instruction. But there was no complaining about the results. I looked beautiful.

The cashmere dress clung to me in an almost grown up fashion and the green—in combination with my reddish hair—gave precisely the kind of Christmas vibe I was going for, even though I was about a month too late. And I looked a lot older than the seventeen I was going to be turning very shortly.

"Hey," was all Jacob said, coming up the stairs to hug me. "Alice go crazy again?"

I felt the strangest desire to hit him. All I did was smile. "I have a present for you. A belated birthday-slash-Christmas gift. I would have gotten it for you on time, but it took a while to clear through customs."

"You already gave me more than enough," he said. "It's fine, Nessie."

"Don't you want to see it before you turn it down?"

"Seriously, Ness, you don't have to do this."

"I _want_ to." My voice couldn't have been more forceful even I had been a general. "I want to give you a present, Jacob, so could you please accompany me to the garage?"

He had no choice but to hold out his arm, to help me down the steps. The knee-high boots came with heels, so steps were tricky, but at least I didn't have to sprain my neck looking up at Jacob. I needed all the help I could get, so eye contact was vital. We didn't talk as we walked to the garage—I was too nervous, he was probably picking up on it—and so when we slipped inside, I turned on the light and removed the covering from the car without a sound. Then I looked towards Jacob.

Jacob said nothing.

His mouth was opening and closing, and I'm pretty sure he was fighting to say something, anything, only the shock was not helping his communication skills. Five times he tried to speak and five times he failed. On the sixth, he managed:

"Wow."

"Do you like it?" I asked, voice teasing. He didn't even notice.

Taking a step forward, like a man in a trance, Jacob reached out one hand ever so slowly, afraid the car would just disappear upon contact.

"It's not a hologram," I assured him. "You can touch it if you want."

"That's—it's—wow."

"Does that mean you like it?"

"She's beautiful," he said with such frank admiration it made me want to blush. He was in love with the stupid car in a way he would not let himself be in love with me. Yet. "Nessie...is this really...?"

"The Bugatti Veyron EB 16.4. It came in yesterday."

"Holy shit." He was stroking the hood now, trying to contain himself and failing. "Do you have any idea how fast this thing can go?"

"Faster than God," I said, sitting down on the workbench that ran alongside the wall. "That's what Edward said. Technically I think it's a little over four hundred kilometers an hour."

"408.47 kilometers an hour," he corrected. "That's 253.81 miles per hour—and it can get to that speed in under a minute."

"Jacob...are you crying?"

"No," he said, but his voice was strained. "Shit. This is—I don't even—I can't believe I'm touching one."

"Do you want me to leave the two of you alone?"

I had never seen Jacob act like this before, and it was actually kind of weird. When my parents got carried away in the moment, it was just an extension of their all-consuming love for one another, a natural part of life. Seeing Jacob act this excited about a car? Not natural at all.

"What?" He hadn't even heard me. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Could I—I mean, I know that—but if—could—?"

"The keys should be in the glove compartment."

"I love you," he burst out, already rushing around the car to sit down. I rolled my eyes and then waited for an invitation. He had already started the engine before I realized Jacob's world had shrunk to even more miniscule levels than usual. Using vampire speed, I managed to open the door before he took off, but only barely.

"I take it you like it," I muttered as I buckled myself in.

The car didn't move. Jacob had frozen with his hands on the wheel.

"How much did she cost?"

"That's not important."

"A million? Shit—that's in Euros. What's t the stupid exchange rate?"

"Jacob..."

"Nessie," he snapped. "How much?"

"Plus shipping and handling?"

"All together."

"Closer to two."

"Shit."

The engine was off and he was outside the car again. "Jacob," I called, hurrying out of the car, "Jacob, don't do this. I just wanted to get you something you'd really like."

"I don't want you to go out and spend two million dollars for a damn car," he shouted. "This was unnecessary. I didn't ask for this!"

"Well, too bad. It's yours. Do you have any idea," I whimpered, "How hard I've been trying? But you don't want me, you don't want my family, you don't want anything else we can give you—what I am supposed to do?"

"Nessie, don't—"

"It's not fair. Why can't you let me make you happy?"

"Hey," Jacob whispered, as he came to stand in front of me, wrapping his arms around me. "That's not true. I'm always happy when I'm with you. I don't need the greatest machine mankind has ever made. I just need you."

I rested my head on his shoulder for a moment. Being near Jacob always did make me feel stronger and more capable than I really was. I needed that, at this moment. Because I wasn't finished and just because nothing was going according to plan, didn't mean I was going to give up just yet. Hurting Frank the way I had required a reason. I couldn't be a coward.

"I wanted to give you the car so that you would offer me whatever I wanted for my birthday," I admitted, holding onto him, tightly.

"You know you just have to ask."

"Not this time." I looked up at him, his familiar, loving face eager to indulge me, as always. "You're not going to want to give me this. Even though...it just makes sense."

"Ask and you shall receive," he joked.

"I want you to ask me to marry you."

He pulled away in an instant. His face had gone ashen, his eyes furious. "What the hell?"

I wasn't going to let him leave that easily. We had come too far and I was tired of all this playing around. Taking a step closer, refusing to allow him the personal space he wanted to have so desperately, I said slowly, "On my eighteenth birthday I want you to propose to me. You can have the car or not. If it feels too much like a bribe, you can give it back. I only wanted to give it to you because you deserve something for all that you've given me and it was the only thing I could think of."

Standing as I was, inches in front of him, forcing him against the wall, the only thing Jacob could do was turn his head. Staring off to the side, he muttered, "You're six years old. I'm not marrying you."

"Look at me, Jacob," I whispered. He refused. "Look at me. See me." I grabbed his chin and forced him to face me. "Look at me! I am not a child anymore. Jacob...please. Please, just see me as I actually am, not the little girl you'd rather I be. Please?"

His dark eyes glanced down, staring at me, but I couldn't understand what I saw in them at all. The temptation to reach out, to drag an answer from him through touch was a little bit overwhelming, but I resisted as best I could. Besides, holding his eyes took most of my concentration.

Jacob slumped against the wall. "Is that even legal?" he sighed.

"I'll be eighteen." Physically, as well as according to all documentation. "And I'm not saying we'll get married that day. In fact, that is almost the exact opposite of what I'm saying. Would you like to hear the plan?"

"No. But you can tell me anyway."

I didn't smile at his attempted joke; I was too scared that I would somehow lose the reluctance acceptance he seemed willing to offer me. Or was willing incorrect?

"We'll get engaged. You'll stay here, be the Alpha, like you're supposed to, and I'll do my first year at college like I'm a normal student and then, using the degrees I've gained through correspondence, enter medical school. After I've finished, I'll come back and hopefully find work at the hospital so you can stay in La Push. Carlisle will be gone by then and they'll need me. We'll get married then. That's five years, Jacob. It seems like a suitable compromise to me."

"Why do you need to go off to school as my fiancé, anyway? Can't you just—"

I put my fingers to his lips, hushing him. Quietly, but firmly, I told him, "I think it's best for everyone to establish where we stand. We are going to be together, Jacob. What's the sense in not making it official?"

"You're parents are going to kill me."

"Edward will understand that I'm the one that talked you into this. Bella...she might yell a little bit, but all she really wants, Jacob, is for you to be officially part of the family. Her objections will only be superficial. Besides, they were seventeen when they decided to spend the rest of their lives together. You're twenty-three now, and I'll be twenty-three when we actually get married. They are in no position to judge."

"Exactly how to you figure you'll be twenty-three?"

"Five plus eighteen. Simply mathematics," even if I sounded far too defensive for it to be considered simple. "Are you really scared of my family or do you have some other objection, one we could finally get around to addressing?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Seth could have pulled off the clueless look—I never could make up my mind about Seth, if he was as dumb as he seemed or just that good at pretending because that's what other people needed—but Jacob lacked that innocence. In that way, my mother had made him hers in a way he never would be mine.

I stood up straighter, stood closer, and announced, "You're afraid to tell Leah."

"I'm not afraid. Even if she tries to decapitate me, I can take her."

"She won't be angry, Jacob," I said, stroking his cheek, keeping his attention on me. "This is what she wants. She wants you happy, and between us, I think that's a little more than what you deserve from her. But it still seems to be what she wants and you owe her that much. I'm the only way you can be happy, so why can't you embrace that the way she has?"

The cruelty in what I was saying brought tears to my eyes, but I pushed on, because if I didn't do this now it might never be done. "A ring on my finger means you were right—it was a silly dream she once had. It forces her to wake up. I am your destiny and you are mine. There's no sense in letting her forget that."

For the second time that day, Jacob abruptly pulled away from me. It wasn't an attempted retreat this time. All he did was pace back and forth, impotence held together by rage, knowing I was right, and still, even after all this time, hating being told to lie down, to give up, to give in, to settle for less than everything.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he choked out. "I was supposed to have eighteen years and you were supposed to be protected and Leah—that was never part of the plan. She likes _nice_ guys. She's a sucker when they open doors and buy her flowers for no reason and all that stuff. And I just don't getwhat happened. I didn't realize how bad I had fucked up everything until I couldn't fix it. It wasn't supposed to be this..._mess_. It wasn't supposed to be this complicated," he sighed, head bowed, leaning against the roof of the car, exhausted.

I walked over and carefully lay my hand on his arm.

"It's okay, Jacob. We can still fix this, put everything in its proper place. It won't be easy and it'll hurt, but we still have time."

He didn't look up at me. "And getting engaged will somehow make everything better?"

"It will stop it from getting worse."

He snorted, but somehow he ended up taking my hand. His fingers were warm as always, and as they interlocked, I could feel the certainty running through me. This was the way it was supposed to be.

Jacob studied me for a long moment, looking at me, truly seeing me, for the first time in years. It was a little bit disconcerting, having him so close and staring so intently, but I tried to stay still for his inspection.

"Do you really love me enough to marry me?" he asked, finally. It wasn't hard to hear his disbelief.

"When you walked into the room, the day I was born, did you love me?" His panic was so obvious, I didn't doubt Rosalie had been right. He had come to kill me that day. "You didn't. But a second later you were willing to take on the whole world to keep me safe."

"That doesn't answer the question of whether you love me," Jacob drawled.

He had to pick _now_ to be intelligent?

"I forgive you," I whispered. "Without the slightest bit of reproach or resentment...I forgive you for wanting me gone above all else. What is that, if it's not love?" I glanced up at him through my lashes and didn't bother to hide my hope from him. "Are you really going to consider my proposal?"

He snorted. "No promises...but I'll think about it. At the very least...I'll tell Leah I considered it."

"Thank you." Watching him absently stroke the car, I couldn't help grinning. "Jacob...just so you know, if you don't take the car, Rosalie requested it next."

His mouth set into a grimace. "That bitch wants to come near my car?"

"Your car? I thought you didn't want it."

Jacob rolled his eyes, then ruffled my hair. As I shrieked, he warned me, "I know what you're up to, Nessie. And I'm watching you."

"Good. Now can we go for a test drive?"

Jacob didn't need to be asked twice.

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TBC...


	44. Chapter 44

A/N: Well...I'm alive. As is this story. I've finally recovered and removed the last of my distractions and am now back at work on this and other projects. I'm trying to ease my way back into the swing of things with this rather short-ish chapter, but I'm also resuming my schedule of posting on Monday, Wednesday and Saturday, so you'll have more to read soon enough. Even assuming there will some interruptions, I still should be finished all fifty something chapters by September.

Since the last time we talked, I reached the incredible milestone of 1000 reviews. I know I did a poor job of thanking all you wonderful reviewers for it, so I can only hope I manage to wrap this monster of a story up in a way you approve of. Thank you all for your support and your patience. I hope you remembered where we were better than I did.

In case you didn't: Nessie just 'proposed' to Jacob. He did what he always does where she's concerned—he gave in. And got to drive a very fast, very real car. Let's get back to it.

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Chapter 44

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My parents reacted badly.

Of course.

Privately, I think it would not have been so bad if the sequence of events had been slightly different. If the dratted baseball game had gone just ten minutes longer, my parents would have come home to find me alone, no stray thoughts to give away my plan so I could have explained the situation slowly without fear of reprisal. Edward would have accepted the situation reluctantly but gracefully, as was his wont when it came to my relationship with Jacob. My mother would have railed against it and then folded as soon as I insisted upon it. That's what I had anticipated—along with Jacob being far, far away when the moment occurred.

Except the baseball game ended too quickly so Jacob was still saying goodbye to me on the front porch when my parents drove up.

And Edward...did not approve.

At least, that's what I gathered from the way he jerked the car into park and flew at Jacob.

It was hard to hear what exactly his objection was over all the yelling. I know it took both Emmett and Jasper to pull my father off of Jacob and that only happened because breaking Seth's nose temporarily distracted Edward.

Seth took it well, and the blood thankfully sobered everyone up long enough to at least speak with their indoor voices.

"We need to talk," Edward growled.

"Fine," Jacob agreed flatly.

"Alone."

"Fine."

"No," Rosalie said, startling everyone. Why? Of course, she had heard the commotion and decided to appear. The entire west coast must have heard them.

"Fine."

It was a sign of the weakness of his position that Jacob didn't bother to fight her on that. It worried me a little, but at least no one had tried to commit murder just yet. Instead, they marched into the living room, followed by my mother and Emmett, while Jasper excused himself. I went to follow the parade, but the door closed in my face.

"Oh, come on," I cried. "It's my life."

Not to mention my fault.

The door didn't move.

I sighed and glanced over at Seth, whose hand hadn't quite stopped the blood flow. "Come on. I'll get you something cold."

Super hearing did have its benefits, but truthfully I didn't want to hear this conversation. My hold on Jacob could never have been described as tenuous. He would prevail, if only because I wanted him to. My only real fear was that my parents would kill him first, and rationally I knew there was simply too much history between them for that to happen (Rosalie was a different story, but violence was her last resort—violence was the instinct of the vampire, not the human, the monster not the woman she could no longer be). No, everything would be all right. In a moment.

"You're going to marry Jake?" Seth asked as we sat on the steps, outside the door, frozen peas on his nose. Despite the blood, he didn't seem to be in pain, just confused. "Seriously?"

"After I finish school. I just want us to be engaged before I leave. That will put everything in order." Not looking at Seth sprawled beside me—I had lots of practice at ignoring Seth in the past few months, as Rosalie's encouragement suddenly had Emmett inviting him over at every opportunity—I tightened my hands so that the knuckles went white, they were intertwined so forcefully. "It's good news for you, too. Jacob and I are going to be based in La Push. He'll be the Alpha, so you can become a doctor now. Or whatever else you want."

He blushed a little, but just said:

"I just can't really see you spending forever in Forks."

He wasn't the only one.

"If I survived this long, chances are I can continue to do so. My family has enough money that if I require the hospital in Forks to be expanded to accommodate my areas of interest, it can be done. Perhaps forcing the populace to accept me isn't the greatest of plans, but Jacob has to stay here and I have to stay with him...can you see Jacob any place but La Push? Not anymore...maybe when he was younger he could have acclimatized to a larger city, but he's become too used to the intimacy of a smaller town. Besides, he's a werewolf. He can't live in a city."

"Probably not. But you know, Nessie, we can help too. We're all pretty good at helping."

"Do you really think my father will let you associate with us when you don't become a doctor?" I teased. It was rather too late to search out alternatives.

"If I have to hear how I'm making a mistake one more time..." Seth trailed off, laughing. "For a guy with a perfect memory, your dad sure forgets a lot of things. Like how he's not always right."

"We have the luxury of time—in the end our mistakes are nullified, our past forgiven, simply because there is no one left to hold a grudge. So of course he thinks he's right about everything. One day he will be. That's why he thinks he has the right to tell you how to live your life."

I couldn't help the final huff, which made Seth laugh, and then wince, when he banged the frozen peas too hard against his injured nose. That didn't stop him from grinning, saying:

"That and he loves us."

"That too." Speaking more to myself than to Seth, I continued, "It means he'll eventually get behind whatever makes you happy. Even if you aren't a doctor."

"As long as he can protect me from my mother."

"She's not that...you're stronger than she is."

"Doubtful."

We were interrupted as Rosalie was ejected from the meeting, cursing both my parents and Jacob in equal measure. Nails clawing at Emmett's marble arms, she was hissing like a cat who had just discovered it's favorite napping spot had been commandeered by an unknown and unwelcome stranger.

Edward must have been in a particularly foul mood, because locking the door behind Rosalie served no purpose than to let him expel some frustration.

"This," she spat, screaming at the door, "Is not over! She's throwing her life away, Edward. You can't let her do that! She's your daughter and you can't..."

Her voice trailed off, as her own immobility struck her. Knowing arguing at a door was futile, she turned to me, topaz eyes blazing.

"You're making a mistake. He'll take you away from us, he'll drive you crazy, he'll—"

"Enough, Rose," Emmett whispered into her ear. "You're just going to make things worse."

"Fine," she snapped and marched right out of the house, Emmett hurrying at her heels. Under her breath she muttered, "It'll just fail, anyway."

That rankled. I did not want my solution—the only solution—to have option of failing.

"Do you think she's right?" I asked Seth. "She can't be right. Her disgust with Jacob is based on an irrational psychological association that she cannot hope, but which is not fair to him. He would never hurt anyone, not on purpose, not just for his own enjoyment—well, only if he was in exceptional pain and never a woman. Right?"

Seth snorted. "How can you possibly hear anything over all that thinking?"

"I'm beginning to suspect I don't."

I returned his smile, even as I silently acknowledged that I might be trying too hard to make everything fit. But I had to. No one else was. And there was simply too much at stake for us all to sit around, hold hands, and hope by some miracle everything would work itself out. That would never happen. Leaning back, I heard the last of the conversation that was going on in the living room.

"This is what she wants."

Jacob, sounding tired and a little defeated.

"You really believe that?"

Edward, certain of his own belief, mocking slightly.

"That's what she says."

Jacob, strength returning, defiant, mocking in return. For some reason, that didn't please me.

Youth did not mean I would waver in my decision, but the tone stung just the same. It helped a little when Seth rolled his eyes at me. Only a little—how could Jacob be unsure of my regard?

The door opened, Jacob walking stiffly in front of my parents. They were arm in arm behind him, united in their verdict. It was Jacob who approached the stairs, addressing Seth and hardly looking at me.

"We've been banished. Let's go."

"What?" The younger werewolf was so hurt I ignored whatever feeling I had inside as I realized a banished Jacob was a triumphant Jacob. He had gotten his way and my parents were physically removing him in the pathetic attempt at reasserting their power. I had seen it before with Jacob and Leah. It meant Jacob had won—where did that leave me?

Victorious, I suppose. I didn't feel like I had won anything, as Seth complained:

"What did I do?"

"You didn't stop him." Edward glared, until Seth looked down, shamefaced. "None of you did. So no werewolf will ever step foot on our land again. Ever."

The two werewolves rolled their eyes at each other, which stopped my words of protest. They weren't concerned, so I wouldn't be.

Even if my father was a tyrant.

Seth waved goodbye, leaving me standing awkwardly beside Jacob, ever so conscious of my parents' eyes on us. Jacob didn't seem to mind, just hugged me like he normally would. Or not. His hands had never lingered on my back for so long, long enough that the heat from his hands penetrated the thick material of my sweater. Jacob knew how to annoy my parents. Was that all he was doing?

Over his shoulder, Rosalie walked back through the door, the look of fury still on her face. Jacob was pulling away, but all I could do was stare into her eyes. She wasn't giving up just yet. I was sure of that.

"I guess that means you're just going to have to come visit us," Jacob warned me, winking at Edward, daring my father to stop him.

"Will I be welcome?"

"You should know you don't ever have to worry about that."

I wasn't worried, I just—I was a little scared I had pushed him too far. But I supposed I needn't have been. However fast I wanted to go...that was how fast Jacob wanted it to be, too. I kissed his cheek lightly, and then stepped back to let him leave. And it was over.

Well, it was over after my father slammed the door behind Jacob.

"That felt good," Edward declared. With a tiny smile, he kissed my brow. "If you allowed me into your head, I could help, Nessie. Let me help you."

I smiled at my father, tilting my head back slightly so I could look him in the eye. "I know. I just don't want your help."

"I was afraid you'd say that," he grumbled. With a glance at mother, he accepted he had done all he could do. With a small hug, he dismissed himself. Bella took my hand.

"Let's take a walk."

When I was a child, my mother had been my hero. To put it even more plainly, since I hadn't bothered with the superstition of my father, my mother had been my idol—the beautiful, powerful unknowable entity that would keep me safe if I could just please it enough. Perhaps if I had prescribed to a more traditional religion, I could have withstood attacks of logic. But blind faith had never been palatable to me. When faith had been necessary to hold up my mother's perfection, I had to let it disintegrate.

She would be Bella. Mother, vampire—and yet, somehow, imperfect.

In a way, it was easier to love her this way.

As an added benefit, though my belly constricted at the thought of disappointing her, I could also find in myself a tiny piece of resolve. I would marry Jacob. My mother could cry and scream, but marry Jacob I would.

"You don't have to do this," she told me as we danced through the trees.

"I want to."

She did not look at me, trying to find the answers in distances only she could see.

"You don't—he would never force you."

"But I am forced to seek out what will make me the happiest. That is Jacob." I liked the way I said that, the certainty I could invest in the syllables. "We belong together. It is foolish, then, to stay apart."

"You think he'll make you happy?"

Would I be happy with Jacob? A simple question, perhaps, and Bella expected either a yes or no answer. Yet...what definition of happy was she using? Was the warmth I felt in my family's presence happiness? Or was it more akin to the tightening I felt in my lower belly when Frank kissed me? Or was happiness the calm certainty I felt whenever Jacob was near?

That made sense. It just...somehow, I suspected that wasn't quite the feeling my mother was referring to.

"I don't doubt it."

My performance was lackluster. Bella's smile was not. She flew at me so quickly the force of her body against mine nearly stole my breath.

"Oh, Renesmee, I'm so glad. I had hoped—you'll make him so happy."

She owed him that much.

What had Leah once called my mother and Jacob? Kooky? Recalling the word made me smile a little now. Yes, Leah had said kooky. But somehow, still, it was a kind of love, deeper than I had ever understood. I would always be jealous of it, but now I would strive to be happy for them as well. And if it made my mother inclined to allow our engagement to proceed, so much the better.

"Me too," I agreed. "Does this mean—?"

"Your father's still not going to let him near the house," she admitted, apologetically, but firmly. "In fact...your father is going to require you have space to figure out if you're sure about this or not."

"I am sure."

"Edward...doesn't always understand that anyone can be as sure as he can."

My mother, besides being extraordinarily beautiful, was also the queen of the understatement. When we arrived back at the house, Edward put me under virtual house arrest, so I could better consider the consequences of my actions. Any tantrums would have been considered a sign of immaturity, so I endured his insane meddling as best I could even though it was a week before I saw anyone outside the Cullen family.

And it wasn't quite the person I was expecting.

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TBC (soon, I promise)...


	45. Chapter 45

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Chapter 45

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It was Rosalie's doing. All of it, because the rest of my family, while content to retreat behind monosyllables whenever I brought up the topic, wasn't actively against my plan to formalize my future with Jacob the way she was. They wouldn't have searched high and low for anybody and everybody to talk me out of it.

Rosalie was more creative than I thought she would be. When she finally convinced my father to allow me a visitor, I couldn't believe whom I saw.

Not that I wasn't happy to see Annie, or anything—at that point _anyone_ would have been welcome—but I just wasn't expecting to see her walk casually through the door and flop down on the bed as if she owned the place.

"Nice room," she said appreciatively, even letting out a low whistle as she examined one of the bookshelves.

"Thanks." My room in the cabin was gorgeous, even though I had never allowed strangers to visit it before. Even Jacob hadn't been to see my immediate family's haven. And now the Quiluete girl who I was just on friendly speaking terms with—if that, since I hadn't talked to her since Frank had unceremoniously dumped me—had come inside as if she had always known about it. "How are you?"

"Stressed. I've got this assignment due tomorrow..." she smirked at the look on my face, even though I had been going for polite interest and not anxious bewilderment. "The supermodel let me in."

"Of course," I responded automatically.

"Yeah, I don't think your twin really wanted to let her but...she seems pretty scary."

"She is."

We gazed at each other in silence for a moment. Was there a polite way to demand an explanation for her sudden arrival? If there was, I couldn't think of it. All I could do was murmur: "I didn't think you'd talk to me after Frank told you why we broke up."

"You thought I'd care that you called us all lowly Indians?" Annie grinned at my horrified expression. I suppose my discomfort could be amusing. "Yeah, Frank might be dumb and red, but even he can figure out the obvious every so often."

"Figured what out?"

"About the...you know. He figured out all that white supremacist stuff was all just bullshit and was going to try and get you to apologize so the two of you could get back together...and then Seth explained the situation. And Frank knows when to quit. I mean, usually. He still calls me Yoko Ono, but that's just because he's a dweeb. Breaking up the band my ass."

I felt myself smiling at her affronted expression, even as I wondered, "Exactly what did Seth say the situation was?"

"You know...that whole sort of arranged marriage deal you have going on."

"Arranged—That's not—Seth wouldn't have called it that. That's...imprecise."

"That's what Frank said he said."

"What Frank understood that he said."

"Same difference. Whoever came up with it was still right, right?"

As Annie waited for my reply, I tried to swallow down the panic. Just because the words held a negative connotation in western circles did not make them inherently bad. And then I felt worse because my first reaction had been to defend the definition and not the charge.

It had been my decision to marry Jacob. We weren't even getting married, just getting engaged, but the decision to go through with it had been mine. If anything, he was the one being forced to marry me. Yes, to some extent I could see that our options had narrowed down to each other and no one else through a process other than our own volitions, but it wasn't anyone's fault. It was just the way it was. Imprinting could not be controlled—it made us belong to each other in ways beyond human understanding.

It might be like an arranged marriage, but it was an arranged marriage guaranteed to be successful, to ensure the happiness of both parties. So there was nothing wrong with it.

But Seth would have been vague and secretive and eager to nod when Frank found a solution that appeased him. It was an easy mistake to make.

That didn't sit perfectly well with me, but I ordered myself not to mind.

"I guess. In a way. I—I don't really feel comfortable talking about it."

"That's fine. Hey, that reminds me..." She reached into her purse, and pulled out a package of photographs. "Here. I thought you might want to have these."

I took them, steeling myself, not wanting to look at pictures from my one and probably only high school dance. Only I wasn't sixteen in the pictures.

"What—?" Forcing myself to swallow, forcing myself not to shake, I asked, "Why are you giving these to me?"

"Even Nomes isn't that big of a nerd. She doesn't need pictures of every single one of her birthdays. Besides, my mom said it probably wasn't safe having them around the house like that. She thought you better have them."

I stared at her, the teenage girl on my bed, who calmly handed over the proof that only a few years ago I had been the same age as her currently much younger sister and watched as Annie just pushed her long silky black hair off her face. The smile was still on her face, but it was less boisterous than before. It was more concerned.

"I've lived on the rez my whole life," she said, "I know I'm not the smartest kid around, but I have picked up a few things. I know it's better not to know, sometimes. Because if I don't know why Quil Ateara Jr. Is too wide to fit through the doorways head-on even though he doesn't know what bench pressing is, if I don't know why Leah Clearwater can outrun some cars, if I don't know why Emily Uley has claw marks down her face that her husband feels just terrible about...then good things happen. Houses that were falling apart get fixed. Broken pipes suddenly have clean water running through them. There isn't junk everywhere in town—hell, La Push looks so nice you might not even notice it was a reservation. Jacob Black can do everything you ask of him, as long as you don't wonder too hard why you can't find him on the nights you can hear the wolves howling."

She tilted her head to one side, fiddling with her hair. I licked my lips. "Annie—"

"I like it the way it is," she interrupted. "It's brought us good luck and I don't want to be the one to ruin it. You're part of it too—there's a rumor going around town that Jacob Black got himself engaged to a white girl and the council disapproves. I—I thought that meant you could use someone."

Annie gave me a tiny smile, one that I returned.

"Thank you."

"Hey, I have to help my sister's best friend out," she said with a wink. "Plus, I had to do something to get the crazy chick to stop calling my house."

"Crazy—?" The answer wasn't hard to figure out. "Rosalie? Why would she call you?"

"She wanted to see if I knew anyone who might be interested in taking you out. I kept telling her I didn't, but I don't think she got the message."

"She can be...a little intense, sometimes."

"You're telling me."

We were grinning at each other, but I couldn't help trying to ruin the mood. "There really is nothing you'd like to know?"

"Well..." Annie bit her lip, thinking her options over. "I have always kind of wondered why Leah didn't just round up the guys and create one of those firefighter calendar things. The guys around here are _ripped_—she'd make a fortune."

I burst out laughing, even as part of me acknowledged it probably wasn't a bad scheme at all. Jacob was always complaining that the reservation needed money and Annie was right. There wasn't a heterosexual woman in the world that wouldn't want to see the werewolves without their shirts.

"I suppose you would offer to take the photographs."

"You hook that up and you would be my hero. Forever."

My smile faded. The entire situation was just too bizarre. "You really came over here just to hang out?"

"I'd say we should actually go some place, but I don't think the scary people outside would let you."

"You're probably right."

"Luckily, I brought movies."

They were rather interesting avant-garde films that required attention to detail, and I enjoyed having Annie explain some of the stranger symbolism. Still, halfway through the first one I couldn't help but ask:

"Does the Council really disapprove?"

"If by Council, you mean Sam Uley, then yup."

"He get punched in the face?"

"Kneed in the groin."

Leah was still on my side then.

I caught Annie's eye and the two of us burst out laughing. Annie rose on her knees and quickly began retelling La Push's new favorite anecdote.

And so despite the fact Annie failed to accomplish Rosalie's purpose, I enjoyed her visit. That didn't mean Rosalie just gave up. In fact, she rebounded quickly. She had to. She only had until September. She didn't have the time to waste, bemoaning what hadn't been accomplished. She simply searched around for someone else.

It took her ten days to convince my father to allow me a werewolf guest, but in the end, Rosalie succeeded. She got permission. All she had to do next was select the werewolf most likely to talk me out of my admittedly hare-brained scheme.

She picked the wrong Clearwater.

I didn't think so, at first, when I heard the familiar sounds of Leah's footsteps coming up the porch steps. That whole point of the plan was to spare Leah's feelings from the damage uncertainty caused. One hint that my scheme was not working and I would have promptly phoned Jacob and called everything off. All Rosalie had to do was get Leah to walk through the door looking slightly upset and Rosalie would win.

Leah wasn't so easily manipulated.

When she walked through the kitchen door, she looked as tall and strong as ever. Yes, she was scowling, but Leah's default expression and not something that particularly worried me. The only thing I could find fault with was that she looked a little tired, but other than that...Leah looked the same as she ever had. Even the words out of her mouth were similar.

"He's an idiot," she announced, as she entered. "I apologize in advance."

With that she settled herself down onto the chair across the table at me, allowing the textbooks to form a buffer between us.

"What did Jacob do this time?"

"He hasn't clued into how out of his league you really are. Don't worry about it though. I'm reminding him."

"He's still...he's not sure he's going to go through with it?"

Leah snorted. "Don't worry about it. It's just his stupid macho way of trying to protect the little girl from thinking for herself. He'll figure it out, eventually. But, like I said, don't worry about it. I've got it covered. Carat, color, clarity and cut—I know it all, and I'll make sure he gets it eventually."

The expression on her face didn't make it look like she was joking. "Leah...I...you don't have to help him pick out an engagement ring."

"Please. If I don't help him, he might get Seth to come along and then you'll have eternity to regret it. Unless you don't think I have good taste?"

She arched one eyebrow, drawing herself up to her full height, looking as intimidating as she could with her eyes sparkling like that. She was having far too much fun teasing me. Not only was it annoying, as always, but it was rather disconcerting.

"You don't have to be the one who helps him all the time, Leah."

"Yes I do."

No one did steely quite the way Leah Clearwater.

"Leah—"

"I'm the beta. It's my job."

"What?"

"You never really got that, did you? After all this time...I didn't hang around you when you were little for the joy of your company, you know. You were actually a real pain in the ass."

"Thanks."

"Not that—it was all mostly Bella's fault, anyway. You take a special kid and then tell her she's special every single second of the day and of course she's going to be impossible to live with."

"I've sort of figured this out myself," I said a little more irritably than I meant to. I couldn't help it. It was a little humiliating to remember what I had been like when I hadn't known much outside my own front door—and I couldn't forget _anything_. "What does this have to do with an engagement ring?"

She finally sobered up, her voice loosing the forced bravado that had annoyed me since she walked through the door. I didn't like this new tone any better. It was too raw, too hurt—and that meant there was far too much anger in her for me to know what to do. "I'm the beta. So when he can't figure out why anyone gives a shit whether there's chicken or beef, I'm the one who sits down beside him and tells him to just pick one already. Or reminds him that your family can afford both of them. Okay? I'm his beta," she said once again. The anger fled. "Don't take that away from me."

I couldn't, even if I wanted to, I wanted to tell remind her, and I didn't. There was no need for pleading. I couldn't take that away from her. Or from him. It was too much a part of what they were, even when I couldn't understand it.

Jacob and Leah were wolves. All the Quiluete boys I had known from birth...they were a pack. A brotherhood. A single entity—so it didn't matter that they insulted or punched one another, because nothing could tear them apart. It meant Leah might very well be the best man at Jacob's wedding to me...and only if I tried to put a stop to it would the two of them consider it a problem.

No matter how miserable it made them.

It was funny, but not funny at all. Fate had made me his. And somehow...fate had messed up and made her his, too. Fate really should have gotten itself better organized.

"I'm just don't want everyone to make a fuss," I felt it was safe to say. Saying out loud that I wanted to protect her feelings probably wouldn't go over well.

"It's no trouble at all," she assured me. She reached out one hand and took hold of me. There was a tiny hint of embarrassment, but it wasn't enough to stop her from trying to show me everything we had spent so long ignoring. "Here. Let me prove it to you."

I looked at our interlocked fingers, closed my eyes and nodded.

_You're making dinner when you hear the car, the same way you've heard it countless times before and the only thing that runs through your head is that you should tell Jacob the muffler sounds off, just to see the look on his face. Chopping cucumbers didn't use to be that distracting, but you don't notice Seth until he's sitting at the table, having already grabbed an apple._

"_Apparently, Jacob has something to tell us," your baby brother who won't stop growing bigger than you says. In the doorway your Alpha stands, bangs in his face and you resist the old impulse to push them off of his face. _

"_What?"_

"_Nessie's gone nuts."_

"_Not exactly what you told her, is it?" Even with his mouth full, Seth makes himself easily understood. Worry begins to eat away at the pit of your belly—you hate that feeling._

"_What did you do to her, Jake?"_

"_I—I agreed." He blurts it out quickly, as if his news was like a Band-Aid and needed to be ripped off quickly. "She wants me to propose when she turns eighteen. I said I'd consider it."_

_The hand on the knife end up remolding the handle, you can feel it and it's not a pleasant sort of sensation. So the kid wants a proposal. And what the kid wants, the kid gets. It isn't a reason for your stomach to feel like it was filled with lead, or your throat to tighten until it's impossible to speak or your heart to feel lighter than it has in years._

_Relief._

_It washes you clean, as you stand in your mother's kitchen crushing a blade in your hand. It's over, you lost, game over—and suddenly you're freer than you've been since the night before Dad died. If you don't smarten up after this, you really are dumber than Bella Cullen. Let Seth be jealous that his precious Alpha's going to get married and leave him behind. You...you won't care anymore. You can't._

I let go, pleased that my powers were getting stronger, more controlled. Then I had to figure out what I wanted to do with the information Leah had just given me.

"You promise you really are fine with this?"

"I promise." She was laughing at me, but just a little bit. "Seriously, kid, don't tell the Munsters out there, but I'm actually sort of proud of you."

I ended up staring at her for a good long while, until she laughed in my face again.

"Leah? Are you feeling all right?"

"You should have seen yourself. Really, kid, I think it's great. Jacob's going to be happier than he has in years. He just doesn't know it yet."

It was nice to finally have someone agree with me. This was the right thing, the purpose I had been born to fulfill. I was Jacob's and it was about time everyone accepted the fact. Leah had. She accepted that a lot of things about being a wolf that weren't always pleasant. Perhaps there was one thing I could fix. I could hope.

"It'll be fine," Leah promised again, as she left. I clutched her hand a little too tightly, but released it with a nod. She was right. It would be fine.

Rosalie wasn't a fool. Watching our goodbye, she must have seen her plan had failed. She rallied again. "I think I might be able to get your father to let Seth come back around," she said, coming up behind me as I watched Leah drive away. "How do you think you like that?"

The hand she placed on my shoulder felt more like a claw, her nails were so close to digging into my skin.

"I like having Seth around," I admitted. "But it won't help, Rosalie. It's...it's too late. Seth won't ever openly say a word against Jacob and I..." It was far too late. Leah's assurance had silenced the last of my doubts. There was no longer any danger of me talking myself out of this. "I'm not going to change my mind. I can't."

"We'll see."

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TBC…


	46. Chapter 46

A/N: Why yes, I took a dirty throwaway joke and turned it into Nessie's future career :P And I'm already a day behind, so sorry if I haven't gotten back to you yet.

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Chapter 46

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The house in Forks had belonged to Charlie since he was too young to be married. It was the site of my first Christmas, not to mention the place where my mother had spent the last two years of her life. Yet I rarely came over; only for family gatherings would I make the trek. Today was one such gathering. It was my father's way of apologizing to the werewolves and so even though the gathering was bound to be chaotic, I approved.

Half an hour early might seem a little presumptuous, but I had fled my house as soon as I could. If one more person casually sidled up beside me and began talking about how I was too young, I was going to scream. It had been going on for a month and I didn't think it was going to stop soon.

"Nessie," Charlie greeted me, clearly a little surprised. Story of Charlie's life. His eyes went wide at the Ferrari in his driveway, which was silly, since my family was going to come over in much fancier vehicles. We should get one for him. I had to admit that driving had turned out to be as useful as Jacob had promised. "It's good to see you."

"You too," I said, hugging him. "I'm sorry I'm so early."

"That's fine. Just stay out of the kitchen after you say hello to Sue. She needs to concentrate." Charlie shivered and I tried not to laugh. Sue must have been very insistent on her space.

"Thanks for the warning. Is there no one else here?" I had hoped Leah would come up to help her mother. Lately, she seemed to enjoy imparting all sorts of wisdom upon me while I stood there silently. Not that I didn't want to watch the game with Charlie, but I did owe her that much, at least.

"Only Seth. Maybe you can convince him it's safe to come down."

I followed him to the kitchen, trying not to laugh. The room was hotter than usual, filled with more stainless steel pots than I had ever imagined. Sue turned around to greet me:

"Get upstairs."

"Excuse me?"

With a huff of impatience, Sue explained: "You'll just be in the way here. And someone needs to talk Seth out of this crazy scheme of his."

I opened my mouth to point out that Seth should be in charge of his own future, and then closed it. Neither I, nor Seth, nor Charlie himself carried the last word in Charlie's Swan's house. Sue did.

"I guess I'll be down in a bit, then," I said to my grandfather, excusing myself.

"And tell my son that if he doesn't stop sulking in his room, I will drag him down here myself. And he really doesn't want me to have to come up those stairs to get him," Sue called after me.

"Yes, sir," I muttered, but under my breath. It was safer that way.

The Swan house was not one I was intimately familiar with, though I knew my way around. Seth would be in my mother's old room. I think it was technically still considered her room, though Seth was the only one who stayed there nowadays, whenever he felt like staying in Forks for the night. Ignoring the slight, irrational embarrassment, I knocked on the door and was told to come in.

The unmade bed was the only sign that the room wasn't my mother's any longer. If Seth used it as a retreat from the drama that was Jacob and Leah, it was an impersonal hideaway. There was nothing in here to suggest he ever stayed longer than he had to.

"Hey," Seth greeted me, eyes on the ball he was bouncing against the wall. He was sitting on the floor, back against the bed. "Has the warden given permission for me to leave, yet?"

"Your transfer is to occur soon," I promised, as I sat down on the floor beside him. "Though your mother isn't _that_ bad."

"I only get three meals a day."

"Poor baby," I mocked. "I suppose we could be social pariahs together."

I was very tired of the monosyllables.

"Edward's breaking down. He'll forgive you soon. And Mom might tell him to lay off tonight. She's on your side. Which makes no sense. How come you're old enough to figure out your own life and I'm not? I'm older than you are." Seth frowned. "Right?"

"By four years," I assured him.

"I thought it was more."

"No. I'm seventeen now."

"Stop catching up. You're already more mature, you don't have to be older, too."

"You have nothing to worry about. I'm going to be eighteen the rest of my life, very shortly."

"Wish I could have done that, instead of skipping from fourteen to twenty-five. That was just really weird."

We grinned at one another, knowing that humans didn't have to have the conversations we did, but not willing to trade it for anything. It was actually the first time Seth had looked at me since I had come in—the ball had been too distracting before—and now his eyes glanced downwards. He looked a little surprised as he asked:

"Since when do you wear t-shirts?"

"Sometimes they let me dress myself," I whispered. It was nice that someone found me funny. "Actually, I think it's Alice's subtle way of punishing for the Jacob mess, though she really is just punishing herself. Luckily, picking out the perfect dress for my eighteenth birthday party is taking up most of her time and she hasn't noticed."

My eighteenth birthday party was always going to be a big event, since it would be around that time that I would stop aging. Now it had taken on an extra significance, the day I would promise myself to Jacob, and Alice was rising to the occasion with all the party planning skills she had. It was going to be a night to remember.

"And so you felt it was safe to wear a t-shirt," Seth concluded.

"They're comfortable." A horrible thought struck me. "Unless they aren't appropriate attire?"

"You're here to watch the Super Bowl, Nessie. You don't have to wear a cocktail dress. Besides, you still look—since when do you like Pink Floyd?"

Did werewolves ever not get distracted? I think the answer was unequivocally no, but I answered the question.

"Annie likes them. I just liked the prism. Somehow the idea that white light is merely a collection of every wavelength of color and you just need a prism to refract the light seems beautiful to me. Colors just depend on the angle you look at them. It's neat."

"Nerd." I liked that there were labels out there that meant unique and special, but without the horrific connotations that freak had held during my childhood. Jacob had been right, after all. Different did not have to be a bad thing out there. Besides, Seth managed to inject such affection into the term that it was impossible to mind. "You're slipping. I think I vaguely remember that. Tell me something I don't know."

"Did you know that the Taj Mahal is a mausoleum? It was built by Emperor Shah Jahan in honor of his wife Arjumand Banu Begum, on whom he bestowed the title of Mumtaz Mahal, 'beloved ornament of the palace.' She was fourteen when they were betrothed and his third wife. But the world's best known monument to love is built to her, even though their union was orchestrated by her aunt and his father's wife, Nur Jehan, for political reasons. An arranged marriage, if you will."

"I didn't know that either," Seth admitted. He bit his lip, then said, "Frank came up with it. But I...I didn't correct him."

"It's fine," I sighed. "It would have been too difficult to explain otherwise."

"That's not—Nessie, I let him think he was right because...I happen to think he is right."

"You don't mean that."

Now I was the one not looking at him.

"I think I do," he said quietly. "I think Bella and Jake worked out this whole thing before you were even born. I don't think they meant to, but I think they did. That's not to say I don't think it'll work, just...they didn't ask you."

"That's why I had to tell them I was all right with it now."

"Are you?"

"Is Jacob?" Now that I had asked the question, I found myself wanting an answer. "Is it bad over there? Is that why you're staying here? The fighting..."

I trailed off, not knowing exactly what I was worried about. Seth understood. "It's not the fighting that's bad, anymore. It's watching them make up. I couldn't—besides, I miss living with my mom. She's a much better cook than Jake."

"It's harder watching them apologize than watching them fight? That makes no sense."

"It would make sense if you saw it," he promised.

"Not like that's going to happen. They haven't let me see them together for a month." Of course, I was a supernatural being with unnatural powers. Holding out my hand, I asked, "Please, Seth? Show me?"

When he didn't respond, I repeated, "Please?"

"I'm just trying to think of what to show you," he said, mind obviously elsewhere. "Don't want to show you everything, ruin my aura of mystery."

I rolled my eyes but stopped when he took my hand. Our fingers interlocked, Seth nodded his consent and I concentrated on bringing the past to life.

_When you hear the footsteps coming towards the front door you almost get up and leave, even though you love _I Love Lucy_ reruns and the couch feels like it was made for you. No one else needs witnesses to make apologies official—what makes Jake and Leah so special?_

_But one glare from Jake has you staying right where you are._

_The sound of your sister closing the front door behind her alerts Quil and Embry to her approach, but Jacob silently keeps them there too. Embry shoots you a look that begs for help, but you're all prisoners now and you can only shrug and sigh and wish Leah wasn't the most stubborn person on the planet._

"_I'm sorry I stormed off," Leah announces, standing in the doorway. "And about calling you a coward. I was wrong."_

_Very wrong, though you doubt Leah really thinks that. You don't think Jacob's afraid to let himself be happy with Nessie—you think he's scared he'll be so happy he won't notice she's unhappy. Which is probably what's going to happen, which shows that Jake is so much better at this leader thing that you can't help but be grateful to Nessie anyway, even if this whole thing with her and Jacob...is none of your business anyway._

"_I'm sorry I called myself a pedophile," Jake says in return. "Even if I wasn't wrong."_

_And he looks so sure of himself that you cringe, already suspecting it's going to get ugly again before it gets better. Oh wait. That's what used to happen. Now Leah just acts like an idiot._

"_She's your imprint. There's a difference," Leah says in her horrible faux-reasonable voice, the one that doesn't let her acknowledge what she's saying is the direct opposite of what she actually believes. "You wouldn't hurt a hair on her head. You need to stop using that as an excuse. It's not like you can stay away from her."_

_The worst thing about the faux-reasonable voice is that it occasionally says truthful things._

"_And I can't apologize for that," he says._

"_Exactly," Leah agrees, ignoring how facetious he was being. "Now, someone deal me into this game."_

_Embry does exactly that, as Jacob makes room beside him on the floor. She sits there, right hand again, but you long for the screaming that cleared the air, that someone got rid of the toxic lies you all seem stuck inhaling nowadays. _

_Let him be unhappy if he wants, you want to tell your sister, but Leah's older and she's not going to listen to you. Jacob won't either because he feels he owes her this (he does), so you turn your attention back to Lucy because it's better than watching everyone pretend to be okay._

I keep my eyes closed, even though I've stopped the memories. It's hard to banish Jacob's face from my mind, the guilt that doesn't quite hide the buried excitement that feeds it. Part of him did want this, then. He just hated himself for it. He wanted it, she didn't. But they would pretend he didn't and pretend she did for all they were worth. Stupid werewolves.

Seth squeezed my fingers and I forced myself to open my eyes. "You were right," I said slowly. "I miss the fighting, too. No wonder you've started staying here."

"It's actually pretty great here," he said. "Quiet. Calm. And it turns out I stored about forty copies of _Hustler_ in this closet."

He winked broadly, making me giggle. "So lecherous. Too bad I already know they belong to Quil."

"What?" Seth began to pout. "You know about that?"

"Leah told me, one day...never mind. But yeah, I know what happened. Poor Claire. Poor Quil."

"Served him right—though I've never seen him move that fast. Why did Leah tell you that story?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Nessie..."

"No."

"Please?"

"Never."

"I'll give you puppy eyes."

"Fine," I sighed, knowing defeat was eminent. I had to let go of his hand to better hide my face as I muttered: "She found out I found out...I mean, it's not a big deal, I'm sure it was Alice's influence because my parents are like the world's most prudish sex addicts and they'd never...whatever. It's not a big deal at all."

"That's why you're as red as your hair?" Seth was far too amused. "What happened?"

"I hate you." Taking a deep breath, I said, "My parents just have a very interesting bedside drawer. That's all."

The corners of Seth's mouth turned up and slowly he lost the battle to not laugh. The chuckles came out slowly as I crossed my arms and glared. But it was infections. "Stop it," I protested without any real force.

"Don't feel too bad," he reassured me. "My mom has Charlie—and I have to eat breakfast with him."

_That_ made me laugh.

"You're terrible," I concluded.

"A bit. Charlie is a good guy."

"He is," I said loyally. "He's been great about the whole evil undead issue Bella has."

"Not to mention trying to convince Mom she doesn't need a doctor in the family. Not like it's been doing much good, but he's trying. He doesn't think I'm throwing away my life."

"Just very good MCAT scores," I couldn't help pointing it out. He had done so well I couldn't not say anything. "You almost beat one of my scores, you know."

"The one you got when you were eight."

"So?"

"I guess that was pretty impressive of me," he laughed. "But seriously Nessie. Can you see me as a doctor?"

"Yes."

"Thanks." He sounded so surprised I wanted to shake him. Just because the rest of the world underestimated him, didn't mean he should do the same. "But it's just...it's not for me."

"It seems a shame. You're so good with people—much better than I could ever be—and you're going to spend the rest of your life in a laboratory?"

"But I do have to be good with people. The only way to get funding is to convince people you have a good idea. I can...I mean, I hope I can, do that. I'm not—it takes me longer to follow everything, but once I understand it, I can convince other people. I'm—I'm good at that. And then maybe one day maybe the lab will get really lucky and make a huge breakthrough and I'll know I was a tiny part of that. Wouldn't that be great?"

"Yeah. It would."

"Nowhere near as amazing as what you're going to do, I'm sure, but still cool. Have you decided which branch of medicine you're going to completely revolutionize yet?"

Looking down at my hands, I nodded. "You can't tell anyone just yet. It should stay a secret."

"Promise," he said softly, as we pinkie swore.

I took a deep breath, because I hadn't said my plans aloud just yet and I was a little nervous they would sound even crazier than they did in my head. Not that I would let it deter me. "So the plan is to do first year like a normal human, which you already know. Then I'll enter medical school, for the full four years. After that," after I married Jacob, "I'll go back and do my residency in Obstetrics and Gynecology, and then continue until I'm an accredited REI specialist."

At first, I thought he hadn't understood, because he just sat there staring at me. But he should understand, he had done research about the various options in the medical field and should know that the specialization I wanted was in reproductive endocrinology and infertility. That he wouldn't understand why I wanted to become a fertility specialist hadn't crossed my mind. My certainty was rewarded when a slow smile began to spread across his face, somehow making me blush.

"I think that sounds perfect."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Obviously, you know you don't have to."

"I know. But..." They had given me so much, my mothers who weren't my mother. It was the least I could do. "Besides, you know me. I can't pass up the opportunity to play God."

Seth laughed, then said, "Don't tell Leah just yet."

"Or Rosalie. It's going to be a long while before I can help her, unfortunately. Leah I might actually be able to help sooner rather than later."

"You make it sound as if you have a plan."

"Shelia's actually the one who gave me the idea," I admitted. Hormone levels, not muscle regeneration, control refractory periods. The werewolves shouldn't be different than human men in the same situation unless their hormone levels were radically different as well. "She drew my attention to your hormone levels. And if Leah has even a tenth of the testosterone in her body that you have, her voice should be lower than a subwoofer and she should have a beard."

"Sometimes she gets these really weird hairs on her chin." He put his hands up in surrender when I glared. "She's my sister."

I ignored him. "Since she does have feminine characteristics, than her body must be producing a whole host of other hormones to balance it. Which could be why her cycle is all messed up, while additionally creating a toxic wasteland inside her that is preventing pregnancy. But if I could figure out how to stabilize everything...then maybe she'll have a fighting chance. What do you think?"

Seth shrugged, dark eyes studying my face. "You're amazing, you know? How your head doesn't explode from knowing all that."

"Thank you."

We smiled at each other. A moment later, he tilted his head, then wondered, "I didn't think Embry was coming."

"He's not." But now that I knew to listen for it, that was clearly Embry's car pulling into the driveway. Though unless Embry had new hobbies I didn't know about, the clicking of the high heels on the pavement was not him. From the gait and the weight it sounded like... Rosalie?

"Seth...What's going on?"

"Yeah, because they tell me things," he said, rising to his feet. I scrambled up after him and immediately began pulling him out of the room. Rosalie and Embry really had nothing in common except...

"Nessie?"

Shelia's voice called up from down below and I may have used some vampire strength to pull Seth out of my mother's room. Releasing his hand I practically flew down the stairs, where Shelia was waiting for me at the bottom.

"You came back," I whispered as I hugged her.

Her spindly arms were tight around me. "I told you. Before you stopped. And crazy lady—"

"I know." It was time to put a stop to Rosalie's insanity, before she alienated everyone I knew. "I'm glad you came anyway."

From the back of her throat, Shelia emitted a low growl. I pulled away, a little shocked by the violence it contained. "What's—"

"Hello Renesmee."

My eyes stayed glued to Shelia, even though I could no longer focus on her beautiful face. All my senses were entranced by the voice—everything but the part of me that was cursing Alice for letting me leave the house wearing a plain t-shirt.

"Wait," Shelia growled, but her brother did not. Gently replacing her, Nahuel pushed himself in front of me and smiled. I tried to smile back, but I'm sure my wide eyes were ruining the effect. He was not supposed to be here.

"Surprise!" Rosalie cooed from the doorway. I forced myself to look at her, where she was practically beaming beside Embry. The triumph on her face was even more sickening than the adoration on Embry's and lovesick was just not a good look for the older werewolf.

"It's good to see you again," Nahuel said in the strangely accented English designed to captivate me. My pounding heart said it was working. Or maybe it was just the way he kept staring at me like I wasn't wearing the t-shirt at all. It was disconcerting.

"You too," I responded automatically, as Shelia growled again. "Are you two...?"

"Staying with Cullens," Shelia said. Embry looked disappointed, but resigned. Funny that she wasn't just staying with him.

"More guests?"

Sue had come out of the kitchen and stared at all the half-vampires in her hallways with unconcealed disdain. I suppose it didn't help that we were throwing off her numbers. That didn't stop her from taking control of the situation.

"We put out snacks in the living room, if you all want to go help yourselves. If you eat. Embry Call, you better have thought to invite Quil since you're inviting everyone else to my house. You can all hang your coats and then follow Charlie. I could use a hand in the kitchen, Nessie."

And, orders given, Sue turned her back and went back to the pots and pans.

Embry disappeared outside to call Quil, while Seth and Shelia fell to getting reacquainted with ease. Knowing that the general could not be disobeyed, I fled the scene, muttering apologies, stopping only to glare at Rosalie. She should not have interfered.

Sue looked up from the oven when I came in and handed me a peeler. "Get to the potatoes. Of all the meddlesome—well, I suppose it's only to be expected from the dead."

I snorted—I couldn't help it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the corner of Sue's mouth twitch. So she could be funny after all. Not that the hint of levity lasted long; Rosalie entered the kitchen.

"I hope you won't be too long, Nessie. Our guests have come from quite a long way to see you."

If Sue had taken the opportunity to wipe that smug look off of Rosalie's face, I would have gladly watched. But the older woman said nothing—out loud. Her expression said quite a bit. But it was left to me to say,

"Hopefully, you can entertain them until we're finished here. Since you did invite them without telling anyone."

"Don't be long," was all Rosalie said, still smirking.

I rolled my eyes, but blushed when Sue caught me looking. But all she said was:

"I might be raising wolves but you're certainly being raised by them."

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TBC…


	47. Chapter 47

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Chapter 47

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Rosalie stopped smirking quickly.

Her prayers had been answered, but she didn't appreciate it. She had forgotten, in her desperation, that she had never much liked Nahuel. There was just something about him, a single-minded purpose, so similar to her own, that struck the wrong nerve.

But she couldn't take it back. Nahuel was here. And he planned to stay.

There was no escaping Nahuel. If I turned a corner, he was there waiting for me. If I went to the kitchen, he had a four course meal prepared for us. If I wanted to hunt...well, I still couldn't stomach the thought of hunting with him and to his credit he didn't push the issue.

My father wanted to lift the house arrest, only now he couldn't without looking like a hypocritical fool, even when Rosalie tried to order him to change his mind. For his part, while Jacob maintained that Nahuel was a terrible influence and not fit to kiss the ground I walked on, he also insisted Nahuel be allowed to stay. Was it his passive-aggressive way of trying to get me to call off the potential engagement? More like his way of making sure he was being fair, Leah assured me. Part of me still wished he would put his foot down and get rid of Nahuel once and for all.

Because Nahuel had never been great with personal boundaries. And now that I was threatening to become engaged, he seemed to have forgotten they existed at all.

If I was walking up stairs, he insisted on taking my arm. If we were walking beside each other, his fingers would constantly brush mine. If we were talking, he would find a way to stroke my face, my side, my hair...everything and anything he could. It was terribly distracting.

I didn't always like it, even if I was now basically eighteen (four and a half months to go), the way he made me feel things I didn't want to feel. I wanted Jacob to come and make it stop. But since Jacob didn't seem inclined to give me that sort of help, I would have to ask him to halt myself. There was just one problem. While I didn't like it when Nahuel wouldn't stop touching me...I loved it.

It was such a unique experience to have someone look at me the way he did that I couldn't make myself get rid of him even though I knew I should.

Luckily, there was Shelia.

Everywhere Nahuel was, Shelia was too. Embry should just move into our house, because his inability to leave Shelia, coupled with her inability to leave me, meant he spent most of his time hanging around my family, which lead to chaos all around. That might have been Shelia's plan all along; I spent so much time trying to keep my family happy despite the smell, I barely had time to cavort with Nahuel.

That didn't mean there weren't moments—usually following Rosalie's excursions out of doors and Embry pulling Shelia upstairs to the guest bedroom—when Nahuel didn't find me all alone.

That's why I didn't jump when I heard his voice behind me, even though I had been so engrossed in my reading I hadn't heard him approaching. I was alone and unguarded. It was no surprise he had chosen that moment to strike.

"What are you reading?" he asked, sitting down on the couch beside me, his leg against my knee. He didn't seem to notice the couch was quite spacious.

"A book," I said dumbly, as I quickly uncrossed my legs. As soon as my feet were on the floor he shifted, so now his thigh was firmly against mine. It was most annoying, as was the blush on my face—ignoring the pleasurable part of contact with Nahuel was becoming second nature.

"What kind of book?"

Now his arm was on the back of the couch, and his fingers were deliberately with a curl at the nape of my neck. I tried valiantly not to shiver, as I forced my mouth open to answer.

"_A Midsummer's Night Dream_," I said without squirming. I was so proud I almost looked around for applause.

"By?"

The whisper was made more distracting by the feel of his breath on my ear, but my surprise gave me the power to resist.

"Shakespeare." 'Of course' didn't escape my lips, but I wanted it to. "Haven't you heard of him?"

Nahuel just shrugged. "I always found English literature drab. Tell me the story."

I leaned away from him as I summarized the love story gone wrong. I had gotten no further than the names of the four youths of Athens when Nahuel's thumb gently turned my face towards him. "You should not fear me," he said, gently brushing his fingertips along my jaw line. "I would not harm you."

"I don't think you'd hurt me," I agreed. Only I couldn't stop thinking of Oberon and Titania, King and Queen of the Fairies, how he had no qualms of humiliating her when he didn't get his way. His pity and his love were expressed only when he achieved his own selfish desires. She was the Queen of the Fairies, but very much _his_, despite her power. "I—"

"Then there's no need to tremble," he murmured. My breath caught in my throat. His teak eyes were so warm, and so close. Again his breath tickled my skin, but I no longer feared the tingling feeling deep in my stomach. I welcomed it. "I have never seen anyone half so beautiful as you."

"Thank you."

"I merely speak the truth," he assured me, fingers traveling along the hallow of my throat, to rest very immodestly on my collarbone. "No one as fair, nor as clever."

I imagined this was what it would feel like to be hypnotized.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Jacob's voice startled me so, I might have toppled from the couch, if Nahuel hadn't secured me so carefully beside him. As it was, I'm sure I made quite the fool of myself (no less than I deserved) trying to rise, and stop blushing, and disentangle myself from Nahuel, all at the same moment.

"We were discussing a favorite author of Renesmee's," Nahuel said smoothly.

"Playwright," I muttered, but neither heard me. More realistically (and worse), they simply didn't care.

"Well, _Nessie _and I," Jacob snapped, "Are going to be late if we don't leave soon, so I guess you'll have to cut your discussion short."

His jealousy was palpable. It should have reassured me. It didn't. I had no doubt that once Nahuel was safely out of sight, Jacob would revert back to muttering 'six' under his breath as he had on so many of our outings, recently. The only reason he came was that Leah made him, I knew well enough. Edward let him because Bella had threatened to move out of the cottage if he didn't loosen some of the restrictions on Jacob (not that she would have followed through, but it made my father understand how important this was to her).

"Enjoy yourself as best you can," Nahuel said, taking my hand and firmly kissing the back of it. The growl Jacob unleashed echoed throughout the room, though it just made the smirk on Nahuel's face grow a tiny bit more. "I await your return."

"Thank you," I said, wondering if I should have pulled my hand away faster, but not wanting to be rude. And—to my own shame—enjoying it far too much. If Jacob wouldn't address his attention towards me, at least someone would.

"Bye," Jacob snapped at the half-vampire. But in his anger he wrapped one arm around my waist, letting his skin burn against my bare back. There was something to be said for Alice. Even when she couldn't see the future, she could assure me that the backless blue dress was going to come in handy.

As I waved goodbye to Nahuel, leaving him scowling on the family couch, I let myself relax against Jacob. It was the closest he had let us come in a while, and I had missed him. There was an assurance when I was with him that went far beyond anything I could express. If I could simply stay beside him, Nahuel would not be able to disturb me so. Jacob wouldn't let that happen. He released me on the front steps and I was left cold and uncertain once more.

"I don't know what you see in him," Jacob snarled.

"He's my Leah."

"How's that?"

"The biologically compatible, opposite gender confidante that I occasionally have inappropriate feelings for."

Politicians might be able to be self-righteous hypocrites, and Jacob might be the leader of La Push, but he had the grace to look ashamed now.

Which just served to make _me_ ashamed.

"I didn't mean it. I don't—"

"It's fine, Nessie."

Yeah, and Jasper slept with a big, fluffy white poodle. But I couldn't exactly protest. It was the truth, after all. The same way Jacob had Leah, I had Nahuel. Even if Nahuel and I did not make quite as striking a pair as Jacob and Leah (Nahuel wasn't exactly vertically gifted), there was something that looked _right_ when we were together. Maybe it was the understanding.

Maybe it was that he didn't talk to me as if I was a child, or have secret inside jokes with other women, or promise me the answer—when I got older. Nahuel thought I was all grown up; and was actually content to do something about it.

"Are you okay, Jacob?" I asked quietly as we climbed into his car. There was no denying how agitated he looked lately.

"I've just been a little stressed lately." Somehow his hand found mine, and I smiled, squashing down the urge to pull away. It had taken him so much effort to get this far, I didn't want to discourage him. Not that it looked like I could. It may have taken all he had to take my hand, but once he did, he relaxed quite comfortably. "Don't worry about."

"When was the last time you went for a run?" I asked. "I'm sure a nice pack excursion will help."

He snorted. "Yeah, having teenage guys in my head really helps lower the stress level."

"I meant go running with the part of the pack you like."

His grip on my hand tightened. I hadn't realized that we were discussing a painful topic until I heard his voice. "Embry's always with Shelia and Quil's always at work or babysitting for the fearsome foursome. Seth could come but...he won't. He's stopped bothering with the excuses, now. He just won't come. Looks terribly guilty saying no, but still refuses to run with me."

I could have pointed out that he could always ask Leah, but I wasn't a moron.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you want me to talk to Seth for you? Or Embry? I'm sure he's just overly excited about having Shelia around."

Jacob snorted. "Yeah, right. I think I can take care of my own pack. Thanks anyway, Nessie."

"You're welcome," I muttered.

Our trips into the real world were becoming stranger and stranger. Sometimes, it was like it had been before (minus Leah, not that either of us ever quite forgot that). I was his darling little girl, and he humored my attempts to explore and understand everything. Sometimes, it was completely quiet, because only in the silence were we comfortable to accept things would change, if we let them. And sometimes, one of us would find that easy transition unacceptable and we would spend the whole time subtly ignoring the other.

Today was actually fun, as we reverted back to the old tried and true method of counting my age _his_ way. It meant he had no guard up and I (though not taken as seriously as I should have been) was allowed to say whatever I wanted. It was good day.

He left me with a quick hug on my porch. Eye contact had stopped being made some time ago, but it was still nice to be able to hold onto him like I used to, when I was a child.

"How was the movie?" Nahuel asked.

I jumped three feet into the air, clutching my heart. Maybe it wasn't just in Rosalie's head—there was something vaguely threatening about Nahuel's presence right behind me, as I closed the door behind me. Or at least that was the excuse I made for the pounding of my heart as he took my hands.

"Good."

That's what I meant to say. It came out as a squeak, so I'm not sure what it was Nahuel heard.

"I'm glad."

His nose brushed against mine, until I had my back against the wall. My mouth had gone dry, but I tried to swallow so I could say something. Anything. Even some strange noise would have been acceptable.

"Nessie!" Nahuel didn't move an inch, even as I jumped closer towards him at the sound of Shelia's voice. There was simply too much of him and I pulled away as Shelia finished coming down the stairs. "Come. I got a letter."

With that, her fingers wrapped quickly around my wrist and almost yanked out my arm, pulling me up the stairs. I glanced back at Nahuel and, unsurprisingly, his eyes were still on me.

"Hi Embry," I muttered as Shelia pulled me into her room. The werewolf on the bed—he was wearing jeans, thankfully; a shirt would have been too much to ask for so I suppose I just had to appreciate the view—nodded and then went back to reading his book and scratching his stomach.

Shelia ignored her boyfriend entirely and pulled me the corner of the room, where there was a pile of clothes that Shelia hated to wear and few pieces of paper. More than a few, actually. Joham's daughters were old school when it came to communication. They liked the post office and they liked sending Shelia pages and pages of instructions on how she should behave.

"What did they say?" I asked, leaning against the wall. Embry was engrossed in his book, but I cringed when I read the title, glad Embry was suddenly too busy to run with Jacob. I didn't think the Alpha wolf (or Quil—especially Quil) would find it amusing that Embry was reading _Lolita _(the existence of the perverted Clare Quilty was such an unfortunate coincidence)_._ Which was probably the point, now that I thought about it.

"You should stay away from brother," Shelia said, digging through the clothes, looking for something. "He is not good."

"Why don't you like him?"

"Besides the fact he's a dick?" Embry muttered, loud enough for us to here.

"Like you've bothered to talk to him for more than five seconds," I snapped back.

Embry didn't argue. As best as he could, he avoided everyone but Shelia (and Emmett, who never failed to amuse the werewolves). He was never rude, but the smell of full-blooded vampires always left him with a headache.

"Selfish," Shelia said, like the one world summed up everything. "He left his aunt behind, first moment, even though she do everything for him. Want someone, anyone, not Nessie—even though Nessie the best. Selfish. Stupid cat."

Embry chuckled as I rolled my eyes. It was no wonder Shelia didn't like her brother. Once she took it into her head that someone was this or that animal, it was impossible to change her mind. And since she was a dog and he was a cat, of course they would fight. Maybe I was just a little bitter about her way of understanding people because when I asked what sort of animal I was, she just shrugged and said, "Not yet. Not grown into nothing yet." It wasn't nice when the only person not to treat me like I was a child...treated me like a child.

"Did your sisters actually say anything important?" It might have been obvious I was trying to change the subject, but I was curious. "How are they doing? And where are they doing it?"

"India. Elmira does not like all the people. She thinks it is too dangerous, but Sakhet wants to stay. They want to know when they can visit, before you stop. Sakhet thinks a few weeks will be good for you."

I snorted.

"What?" Head tilted at almost a right angle, Shelia asked: "You do not want them to come?"

"It's not that I don't want them to come," I assured her. "I do want to hear their advice and if they really have stopped killing people, I want to thank them in person. It's just that...we can't let them come."

"Why not?"

"Because..." With Shelia, I had always settled for the truth. So as plainly as I could, I admitted: "I have to keep Seth safe."

It wasn't Shelia's eyes that made me uncomfortable, though she did not take my declaration well. A frown crossed her dark face, then puzzlement and then the slightest bit of anger. That scared me. But not quite so much as the curious look on Embry's face.

"Safe?" Shelia hissed. "They not dangerous. They never hurt anyone. Look out for me. Save me!"

"That's not—Shelia, that's not what I meant."

Grabbing her, I pulled her through the door, so we were standing outside on the balcony. Yes, Embry could still hear us. The whole household could probably still here us. But at least I couldn't see them.

"I know your sisters wouldn't hurt him on purpose." Or at least in a way he wouldn't enjoy. "You know that's not what I'm worried about. It's just I promised Leah I wouldn't give them the chance for him to imprint on one of them. I promised her, Shelia. So they have to stay away. I'm sorry about that, I truly am, but they can't come to La Push. Understand?"

"She not—" My best friend bit her lip, white teeth shining brightly. "Leah has excuse. She not like us. She not know but you—you should know better, Nessie."

"Know better?"

"Embry is the best person, place, thing to happen to me," Shelia said and despite her inability to use words, the sentiment was undeniable. The force of her feelings was obvious, and not just because she was trembling slightly. The brightness in her eyes, the joy on her face, it was for him. It was all for him.

I shouldn't be jealous—I had an imprint of my own. But why was it just so easy for them to be happy, and I (okay, more honestly, Leah) had to keep twisting Jacob's arm about everything unless Nahuel was present to anger him into loving me?

It wasn't like Shelia and Embry, where Shelia couldn't help smiling at just the thought of him, even though we were having a very important conversation and she was upset with me. "You should know," she insisted. "You should want for everyone."

"Seth doesn't want to imprint. He told me he's happy the way he is now."

"He not know better! You should." She sounded so puzzled, I didn't have the heart to contradict her. Instead, I let her take hold of my face, let her commit everything to her perfect memory, let her try and understand through touch and sight what exactly was going on in my head. Maybe she could explain it to me. "Nessie? What wrong with Jacob?"

"Nothing. Don't be silly. Just because—Shelia?" Not quite sure what I was saying, I stumbled for the words, voice quiet. "He doesn't—he won't—we have to wait. It's not the same, not like you and Embry, or Paul or Rachel, or Sam and Emily. Not yet. I'm still the baby you think I am. You have to patient a little while longer. I won't understand until I'm eighteen. I will then, but not yet. Just give me time."

"Sure?"

"Yes." There was the certainty I often misplaced nowadays. If there was something I was sure about, it was this. Destiny. I was the only one for Jacob. And when the time came, he would be the only one for me. "But for now...I don't understand. So, I don't want your sisters to come. Not yet, okay?"

"Okay." Her friendly, easy, sisterly smile was back in place. "That is fine. Sakhet loves India."

"You don't mind?"

"I just want you happy. And less sister time means more Embry time." Even glancing at the doors, her smile was fond. "Missed him. Letters...not the same."

"Then trust I'll know how to defend myself from your brother and keep spending time with Embry."

She snorted. "Nice try."

I rolled my eyes, but she just hugged me and pulled me inside. Embry didn't even bother to pretend he was reading _Lolita,_ just watched us come into the room. When he opened his arms wide, Shelia didn't even wait for the verbal invitation, just crawled right over him. With them lying down, I finally noticed they were practically the same height (I had to focus on her feet to avoid watching her wandering hands). Blushing, I walked quickly to the door, trying to ignore the sounds of Shelia nibbling on his neck.

I didn't walk fast enough. As I slipped through the door, I could hear Embry roll him and Shelia over, so that my sister was giggling underneath her werewolf lover, even as he muttered, "Kids these days."

I shut the door behind me, trying to ignore the nervous feeling that had begun to creeping through me. There was nothing to worry about. Besides, it was probably Nahuel and his ever grabby hands that was the source of my unease.

Fortunately, I could hear Rosalie coming up the porch. That would give me time to myself, for a little while.

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TBC...


	48. Chapter 48

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Chapter 48

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"Is it bad that I keep hoping I get struck by lightning?"

"Yes," Jacob said, loyally. "She's not _that _bad. I might want to get hit by a car, but lightning is a little extreme."

As Leah laughed, and I flushed slightly, Sue marched up behind the two werewolves and hit them over the head with a newspaper. They barely cringed at the impact, but had the grace to look ashamed. I couldn't enjoy it, since I knew they had a point. I was abysmal.

"Again," Sue ordered. "But don't butcher everything this time."

"I'm trying," I offered, but she looked unimpressed. Once again, I set to work telling the story of Báyaķ and Ákil, the Raven and the Bear.

Since Nahuel's arrival, Sue had made sure I was at her house at least once a week, if not more. I wasn't quite sure if she was trying to protect me from him or from the rest of my family, but I enjoyed my visits. If I was really lucky, the entire pack would be over, like they were today. The chance to see Jacob and Leah at the same time was too great to pass up.

More often than not, though, it was just Sue and Charlie, with Seth making appearances whenever his schedule allowed. Sue usually used the arrival of her son as an excuse to get out of cooking. Since Seth was "eating her out of house and home" and I "had to get used to it" we ended up slaving away in the kitchen. Charlie loved the food Esme had taught me to make and it was nice not to have to worry about Nahuel creeping up behind me, so it was a fair trade.

It was interesting getting to know my grandfather beyond the man who showed up at my birthday parties every few months. I had always assumed he had married Sue Clearwater because Charlie was alone, Sue was alone, and she decided they should be alone together. I still thought the novelty of having someone who understood their unique brand of 'problem' children was a driving force in their relationship, but now I saw there was also compatibility in their mutual practicality. Besides, they had always been friends. I liked that I knew that, now.

Even if I had to put up with Sue's attempts to do her duty.

Seeing as I seemed to be serious about being Jacob's wife sometime in the future, and since Billy was no longer around, Sue had taken it upon herself to make sure I had some understanding of the old traditions. It wasn't her fault I was really, really bad at it.

"Stop looking at me like that," I demanded of Jacob and Leah, sitting and the kitchen table together, ostensibly to go over something for La Push, in reality to judge my meagre progress. I was across the room, sitting on the counter by the sink—as nice as it was to see them comfortable together, I would have preferred if it hadn't been at my expense. "I'm trying."

"I've never heard that story sound so bad," Jacob said in wonder.

"I always said the kid was gifted," Leah replied.

I looked to Sue to smack them again, but she just put a hand on her forehead. "It's not like she's saying it wrong, really. It's just...wrong."

"Could you try explaining it a bit better than that?"

Both Clearwater women turned expectantly to Jacob, who didn't even seem aware of the unconscious election, just simply took responsibility and began the story anew. Only this time, I could see Báyaķ with his dark feathers and Ákil with his thick fur, sitting around the fire, eating their dried fish. I could practically hear the crackling of the flames, as Ákil put his feet beside the fire, to get oil for his guest's meal.

When Jacob looked at Leah and she automatically picked up the story where he had left off the picture didn't fade, just took on different shades and tones, yet stayed fresh in my mind. I didn't need Sue to explain I was the foolish Báyaķ, trying to copy what I physically couldn't. The Raven had been left with curled, charred feet. What would happen to me? Jacob and Leah were doing the same thing I had done—only with magic.

So magical they almost looked perfectly relaxed beside each other once they had finished.

"And that," Sue said just a little proudly, "Is what you need to do."

"But what am I doing wrong?"

"It's because you don't listen," Seth informed me, coming into the kitchen from the living room. Charlie had needed some help setting up the new television, and Embry refused to set it up unless both Quil and Seth suffered with him. Jacob got out of it by being in charge. But they must have been finished, because I could hear Charlie turning on the game once again.

"I can do a word for word recitation. I paid attention."

Seth took a peach out of the fruit bowl, took a bite and then—when Sue glared—came over to the sink to wash it. "You're like your Dad," he said. "You hear everything and don't listen to a word."

I told my father he shouldn't leave without saying goodbye to Seth.

Leah said as much: "I've never seen you take a break up this badly before. Jeez, he's coming back, Seth."

He flipped her off behind his mother's back, which didn't stop Sue from turning around and hitting him with the newspaper as well. "Manners," she snapped. "And Leah? Shut up."

Since no one else was going to cheer him up, I leaned over so I could tell Seth: "Did I tell you I saw the sign of the upcoming apocalypse before Edward left?"

"No," he said, even as Jacob groaned, "Not this again."

"Feel free to shut up at any time," Leah offered.

Their reluctance sparked Seth's interest. "You were saying something about the end of the world?"

"Again?" Quil asked. He was entering the kitchen ahead of Embry and Shelia. The television must have indeed been working. "I thought we were free of that sort of crap for now."

"Nessie just thinks she's funny."

"I am," I said primly to Jacob, who rolled his eyes at me. "And you're just embarrassed because you don't want to admit what happened."

"Because nothing happened," Leah snapped. It just made me giggle, which made the other werewolves demand to be let in on the joke. The combined glaring of Jacob and Leah wasn't enough to stop me, not anymore.

"Want me to show you?"

"No," Jacob whined.

Leah pouted, too. "Can't you just use your words?"

"But then they won't get to see your face when you realize the horror of what you've just done."

"I hate you," Leah muttered, even as the pack crowded in and took each other's hands. Now without fear that I would pick up something I shouldn't—my family had finally succeeded in taming the crazier aspects of my powers, we thought—I began showing those assembled just what had happened a few days ago, when Jacob and Leah marched into the Cullen house like they knew best. Just like old times.

Not really, of course. I got to stay in the room this time. It was quite exciting.

(Less exciting was Nahuel's presence beside me, as if he had a right, but getting him to listen to anyone but himself took far too much time. It wasn't worth the effort)

"I thought we banished them," my father muttered, in the same breath that had him offering the werewolves nourishment.

"Since when do we listen to you?" Jacob pointed out, which earned him a slap on the back of the head from Leah, and an unconscious nod from my mother. It helped that Edward was so furious at Rosalie for inviting the half-vampire into his house, he no longer cared if the werewolves stopped by for a visit.

I interrupted: "You allowed them to come because they wanted to discuss my future."

"Yes but..." My father frowned, then addressed the werewolves. "The two of you should stop thinking different things. It's confusing."

"Stop reading our minds," Leah snapped, pleasant as always. Jacob, meanwhile, had turned to glare at her. "We agreed."

"No, we didn't. Control freak that you are, Jake, you assumed that I would along with your stupid plan to muscle out your girlfriend's unwanted houseguest."

For perhaps the first time ever, Jacob didn't deny it. Though he glanced to make sure I was okay with the label, his first instinct hadn't been to deny me. Progress. Too bad it had taken months. Leah had complained that it was annoying her to watch him move at a snail's pace and so I had suggested she remove the most visible reasons for why Jacob should stay away from me. I hadn't expected her to show up at the house the next day, but I didn't mind her impatience.

Though from the way Jacob was talking, she hadn't bothered to tell him the reason they had come: "Then why the hell did we come, if it's not to get rid of _him_?"

"Absolutely not," Edward announced, even before Leah spoke. "We are not leaving her further unprotected."

"What?" Bella asked, though no one answered her. Now she knew how I used to feel.

"Oh, come on," Leah said. "She's old enough. Do you know how freaking awkward it must be for her to have you huddled around her now? I'm not saying you guys should never come back, just that you should take that nice fifth honeymoon that you've always wanted to take."

Now that Jacob understood what she was getting at, he looked just as angry as my father: "You want them to leave? You're nuts, Leah. She'll be defenceless—"

I offered a quiet, "I can protect myself." Beside me, Nahuel nodded, even as he attempted to put an arm around my waist. Now was _not _the time, so I shrugged him off quickly. One of these days I was going to let Shelia attack him.

"Not from _their_ thoughts," my father almost shouted. "Every time you leave this house, you have no idea of the danger you put—"

Just this once, I had to interrupt my father.

"Let them think what they want. It doesn't mean they'd act on their thoughts. Or that they should be condemned for them. Let me be the judge if thoughts are unwelcome."

"And that," Edward said with annoying finality, "Is why your mother and I are going nowhere."

"I think the kid's responsible enough to take care of herself without being crushed by your expectations." And then because Leah couldn't help herself, even when she was being rational, she added, "Asshole."

"Leah's right."

The four of us turned to stare at my mother, who laughed. "What? It's true."

Leah made this gasping, horrified noise that might have been her attempt to drown herself on her own spit. I think that sort of bizarre death appealed to her, suddenly. Jacob couldn't stop the smirk from appearing, though to his credit (and probably the reason he wasn't killed right then) he turned his head so Leah couldn't see.

"Bella," my father choked out, "You can't really mean—"

My mother took my hand and patted me on the head. "I trust Renesmee, Edward. As should you."

"It's not her I don't trust. It's—it's all of them!"

Edward looked at Jacob who didn't back down, forcing my father to turn his glare at Nahuel, in what I could only assume was my father's attempt to cause the half-vampire to spontaneously combust. It did not work. Confronted with his failure, Edward turned to stare murderously at the wall, probably hoping to kill the rest of the unwashed masses with his mind. Leah still looked miserable, even as Bella rose and took my father's hands.

"Edward, it wasn't so long ago that you were the boy sneaking into my bedroom window. What would you have done, if Charlie had put bars on it?"

"That's different."

"Just because Edward was a pervert—" But Leah had recovered enough to manage to silence Jacob, letting my parents decide themselves.

"She's growing up fast, Edward. She's older than you, now. We should let her enjoy it."

"She's going away in the fall, anyway!"

His exclamation seemed to drain the colour from Jacob's face, even as Edward's eyes took on a rather mad look. I felt instantly contrite. This was the reason the idea had to come from Leah. I couldn't stand my parents thinking I didn't want them.

"It could be for just a year," I told my father. "We could go to medical school together, if you wanted."

My mother had never been particularly intimidating, too beautiful and joyous to ever frighten anyone. But at that moment...though Leah's glare kept Jacob from speaking, I think my mother was actually the more terrifying woman.

"That's unnecessary, Renesmee," Bella said. "Very kind of you, but unnecessary. Edward, you know we're right." Leah gagged again, though my mother ignored her. "The more people you ask me to shield the less accurate I become. I can't keep you from hearing every thought someone has about her. And since it's making you so uncomfortable, we _should_ leave. It's time for our daughter to make her own decisions."

Edward hesitated, and then, as if in a trance, nodded. From his seat, I could hear Jacob complain, "Why do you always do this to me?"

"Because Bella is always right," my father admitted.

Leah must have still been in shock because she failed to point out that was quite a revision to history my father had just made. Jacob just accepted the statement without question, even now inclined to believe the best in the former Miss Bella Swan.

"I'm glad we're agreed," Bella said.

"We're going to leave her?"

My father sounded so depressed I hurried to hug him, even as my mother reassured him, "Of course not. We're just going to give her a little more space. Which, unfortunately, because of your power, means we need to go away for a bit. It won't be long."

"You have to be back at least two weeks before my eighteenth birthday to help Alice," I reminded my father. "Because if you're not there for party planning purposes, she cannot be held responsible for how the decorations turn out."

"Only because I love you," Edward sighed as I hugged him tighter. As I wrapped my arms around him, he took the opportunity to glare at Jacob over my head, "You couldn't have kept your sidekick silent?"

"You couldn't have held out for more than three minutes?" the werewolf muttered back.

I tried very hard not to giggle, though that turned out to be impossible in the next instant for I turned around I found could hear Leah rising from her chair and—with an expression that could only be described as one of chagrin—said so quietly to my mother I doubt anything but a supernatural could have heard her:

"Thank you."

Burying my head against Edward's chest in order not to spark Leah into a homicidal rage, I just watched as my mother repeated the words back: "Thank you."

It was Jacob's expression that defeated my self-control. He just looked so frankly horrified at the unholy alliance that was happening in front of us that I couldn't help laughing.

Days later, I was still giggling, as I let the memories fade away to find myself back in Charlie's kitchen, a circle of werewolves around me. A very amused circle of werewolves. Quil was just chuckling, but Embry looked like he had just won the lottery—every day from here to eternity.

"Shut up," Leah ordered as Jacob warned his friend, "Embry..."

"There are just too many possibilities," he forced out. He sounded like he might cry, he was so happy. "Do I start with Jacob and Edward and their beautiful relationship where they bond over how freaking _whipped _they both are? Or do I go with Leah, and the fact that not only did she almost show human feeling for once in her mean, petty existence, but she also made nice with the previously named Queen of Dull, the Princess of Personality-less-ness, Bella-look-at-me-look-at-me—"

Before Embry could finish listing off Leah's unfortunate nicknames for my mother—not that we had enough time to get through the extensive list, even if we were immortal—Leah lunged across the table, to shut him up manually. It was rather difficult to tell if Jacob's arm around her waist was restraining her, or helping her rise off the ground so she could attack Embry from a more advantageous position. Either way, Quil managed to grab both of them, even as Embry stopped Shelia from attacking the female werewolf as best he could while laughing hysterically.

Then he realized just how colossally stupid he had been and took off towards the front door.

"Yeah, you better run!" Leah called after him. The two men beside her relaxed their grip, which was a huge mistake. She broke through sprinted after Embry. Jacob and Quil exchanged one look and hurried after them.

I could hear the laughter and the shrieks coming from the front of the house, as Sue snatched her rolled up newspaper and sighed to herself, "If they break the porch again..."

As she exited the room, the sound of Charlie cheering as his team scored drifted in. I couldn't help giggling, even as Seth chuckled to himself.

"It'll be three on two," I reminded him, eventually. I supposed it was his duty, even if I didn't exactly want him to join the melee. "Shelia won't stay out of it."

"Probably the fairest fight they've had in years, then. Jake's stronger than the rest and Leah fights dirty. Bet you Shelia does, too."

"Dirty is one way to describe it."

Someone gave a screech from outside. It was definitely Quil, but it didn't sound life threatening, so we stayed where we were.

"Will you miss the insanity next year?" he asked, picking at the meatballs his mother had left undefended.

I slapped his hand away and didn't bother to answer. Of course I would. It was still four months before I left for school (two weeks until I had to make up my mind about where I was studying) and I already missed it. I wasn't quite sure how that worked, missing something that was right in front of me, but I couldn't help feeling like something cold was squeezing my heart even as I laughed with those around me.

"Hey," Seth said, "We could always road trip and visit. Since your parents, Jake and Leah seem to be such good friends now..."

"I think I would pay money to see the four of them in a car together for an extended period of time."

"As long as you don't want them all alive at the end of it."

"Yeah, that would be bad." I fiddled with the dishcloth in my hand, as I watched Seth down half a litre of water in only a few gulps. "Jacob's getting more comfortable with the idea of me, isn't he?"

I already knew the answer, but I wanted someone who could read his mind to confirm it—it was easier for Jacob to love me, when I wasn't clearly Bella's young daughter. . The day my parents left illustrated it perfectly. Hadn't Jacob stayed at the house long after they had gone, for once not bothering to keep his distance? Hadn't he even ordered—yes, ordered, in a tone that had even Rosalie wanting to jump to his bidding—Nahuel to stay away from me or get forcibly deported? There was no more Bella to remind him of what he once was. Leah refused (now that she realized the effort of it would kill her) to be put in the position of representing all he might have had. There was only me. Now. Forever. Always. The ease with which he finally surrendered to his heart's desire suggested the two of us might finally be on our path to happily ever after.

"So comfortable you might be able to ask him that next time."

"I can only handle one sarcastic Clearwater a lifetime. And your sister got there first."

"She beats me to everything." He managed to grab a meatball this time. "Yeah. Jake's getting used to the whole engagement thing. You finally happy?"

Of course. Even if everything wasn't perfect just yet, it was enough that Jacob had held me close, had kissed my brow, had promised that he was no longer ashamed for the feelings he had no control over—I loved him too much to ever want him to feel ashamed. All I had ever wanted was to make him happy (I was only an instrument) and now that I was finally succeeding...I was perfectly happy.

Still, I didn't quite dare to look at Seth.

"Thanks for the help," Jacob said as the pack re-entered the kitchen. They didn't look that much worse for wear, though Sue went back to preparing the meatballs with uncommon vigour.

"You look like you survived," Seth observed.

"Not the point," but Jacob was ignoring him now. Instead, he turned to me and lifted me right off the counter, until I squealed in delight. "You didn't get to see my great victory."

"_Our _great victory," Leah reminded him.

Quil whined: "It was a draw."

His pack was arguing in the background, but directly in front of me, indecently close, Jacob didn't even turn around. He just grinned—a happy, carefree grin and kissed me lightly on the cheek before leaving me there blushing so he could go put Quil in a proper headlock.

"Since your parents have abandoned you," he announced, "We should celebrate."

"Sure," I agreed. "Whatever you'd like."

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TBC... (Major bonus points if you noticed the callback to about a billion chapters ago. Only seven or so left)


	49. Chapter 49

A/N: Like most rules, the one presented in this chapter is not necessarily correct in every case. A good rule of thumb, I think, but not necessarily the be-all-end-all. And last chapter I was talking about Chapter 17, which explains a lot about what Nessie is doing, if you've got the time.

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Chapter 49

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"I hate shopping with you two."

As I watched Annie collapse into the coffee shop chair, shopping bags sprawled around her, I couldn't help feeling hurt. I thought the three of us had been having fun, spending my family's not inconsiderable fortune in Port Angeles.

"Why?" Shelia asked as she sat down beside me on the love seat, across from the younger girl. "We are wonderful."

Annie snorted. "I feel like I'm in a beauty pageant. And I'm clearly losing. It's depressing." When Shelia didn't seem to understand, Annie clarified further: "Nessie is like Playboy's Miss April, hi, my name is Cherry and you can pop me any time. And sweetie, you may look like someone threw up ethnic on you, but somehow it works."

As I tried not to giggle, Shelia just tried to work out what Annie was getting at. She got it eventually. Unfortunately.

"They want to fuck us?"

Annie giggled, while I cringed. "Stop learning English from Embry."

"Leah, actually," Shelia explained. "She was angry with Embry so she taught me what he would not. She taught me right, no?"

I could only sigh. Seeing that I was unhappy, Shelia tried to fix everything—with her costmary tact. Standing up, she waved her hands up and ordered the general populace: "Shoo!"

Then she turned to me. "Better?"

Annie laughed until there were tears in her eyes. "Where did they find you?"

"Outback."

That made me giggle as well, though I knew it to be the truth. Today had been the perfect celebration of my decision to go to Dartmouth. My father had been pleased enough with my choice when I called to tell him, enough that he hadn't noticed I did not mention that I would be attending medical school there. While I would stay within the Ivy League system, medical school would be something I chose for myself. Which meant no Dartmouth.

But for now I was going to celebrate getting to leave Washington, if only for a little while. Besides, it was distracting Shelia from her latest fight with Embry—this time he wasn't going to let her go without protest.

"Food time," Shelia said, grabbing my wallet. "I get muffins, then warn you."

"Warn me?" I called as Shelia slipped away. With a scared sort of sigh, I asked, "What in the world is she talking about now?"

"Something about her brother, I think she said," Annie informed me. I groaned and tried to slip further down the chair. "What?"

"It's nothing. Thank you for coming today."

"Yeah, getting a whole new wardrobe free of charge is such a hardship. Seriously, aside from the fact I don't think anyone has noticed I'm alive all day, standing beside you two, it's been fun. And you did come to Naomi's recital. I owed you."

"I loved going." It was the truth. She wasn't brilliant, my childhood friend, but for her age and her species she was a solid talent. And there was no doubt that she enjoyed playing the instrument. It was the difference between Edward's playing and mine, a difference I had struggled for years to discover. There was joy in the child's playing, a joy that was absent in my endeavor, no matter how skilled I was at pressing the keys.

"She liked having you there. Mom even thinks you're why she started—she was jealous when you could play and she couldn't. She's always been too competitive."

"I'm glad she started. She could be very good, one day."

Annie nodded as Shelia returned with enough food to feed a small country. Shelia dug right in, and seemed to expect us to do that same. "Someone's clearly been spending too much time with Embry," I muttered, as I began picking at a blueberry muffin.

"Nahuel is going to kiss you."

I choked out: "What? Why?"

"Getting desperate. He thought it would be easier—and he is not used to being ignored. That is what he will try next."

"You mean your parents are in the Caribbean, you have Don Juan in your house, and you still haven't kissed him yet?" Annie asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Practically engaged here."

"Practically. If you don't kiss other guys now, when are you going to do it?"

"Or I just won't kiss other guys."

"You think Na-who-whatever will be that bad, huh?"

"Not bad _that_ way," Shelia corrected. "He has too many years of practice for it to be bad that way."

"Years of practice? How old is this guy?"

Somewhere over a hundred and fifty.

"Nahuel is much older half-brother," Shelia said honestly. "Much, much older."

"Wow," said the recently-turned-seventeen-year-old human. "Old guy fetish much."

My cheeks flamed red. "That's not true."

"Sure it is. Frank said you were my age, so I bet he was older, at least then. Jacob Black's like twenty-five—" "Twenty-four" "—and Nahuel is old, too. Old guy fetish. And Aboriginal fetish, too. Go white girl."

Annie laughed as I told her to shut up. "There's nothing wrong with appreciating men that are more mature." It was a little bit of an exaggeration on my part. Jacob wasn't exactly a model of maturity, even if he was older.

"Yeah, but there's mature and then there's old," Annie said decidedly. "Haven't you ever heard of the rule?"

"There's a rule?"

I laid my head on Shelia's shoulder, prepared not to like this. I was right to be wary.

"Now I don't _think_ my mother made this up, though she's the one that invoked it when I started dating Chris. Because of the way our birthday's fell I was fourteen, he was sixteen at the time. Which is against the rule."

"Which is?"

"Uh...okay, so you take his age—no, you take your age. The younger one. So you're seventeen."

"Do eighteen," I said. I wasn't even sure what she was doing, but I knew Jacob was probably going to fail anyway, so I should give him as much help as possible. Nahuel just had no chance—which was fine with me. Aside from the fact I occasionally wanted to throw myself at him it had been easy to realize that his instance that we talk about me all the time was because despite a hundred and fifty years, Nahuel didn't have all that much to say about himself.

"But—"

"Three months."

"Fine. So you take eighteen, subtract seven. And then you double it. So that's..."

"Twenty-two."

"Okay. And that's the absolute oldest guy you can date for it to be socially acceptable. Otherwise...most people will think it's just wrong. And usually...it is."

"Reassuring." Not that it made any difference. "I don't know anyone that age, unfortunately. I guess I'm just going to have to round up."

To a hundred and fifty? Not likely. Too bad, so sad. I guess I was going to have to tell Nahuel it had to be Jacob for me.

"Not true," Shelia burst out. My eyes closed, I tried to will her to shut up. It didn't work. "Embry invite me to Seth's twenty-second birthday next week."

"Clearwater? My mother's in love with that guy."

"More socially acceptable?" Shelia wondered.

I rolled my eyes. Hard. I was a half-vampire. It did not matter if the wider world approved of my relationships or not.

"My Dad also said that if a guy's in a relationship with a girl that breaks the rule it's because he just wants an easy lay and he's too immature to get a girl his own age." But as I gazed at Annie—possibly with a hint of fury—she added, "Though that could just be because he didn't want me to date Chris."

Luckily, Shelia spoke before I could. "I am more socially acceptable than you."

"What?"

"Embry, me, more acceptable. Fit rule."

"Really?" I guess they were born the same year, and even if you did assume she hit eighteen eleven years before he did...it worked. Barely, but still. The crazy half-vampire and the werewolf sidekick were conventional. Who knew? "I can't believe this."

"See?" Annie said triumphantly. "Everyone subconsciously follows the rule."

"That why Nessie always with Seth?"

One of these days I was going to tape Shelia's mouth shut. Or put glue on it, so she could get permanently stuck to Embry and I wouldn't have to listen to her ever again. The imagery did not make me feel much better, nor did it stop Shelia from expecting an answer.

"It's called being friends."

"Wish my friends had abs like that," Annie joked.

I winced, even as Shelia stood up and pushed her shirt up to expose her scared stomach. Thank goodness she hadn't worn a dress today, because I doubt she would have let that stop her. Rubbing her fingers along the muscle, she said proudly, "Very nice, no?"

Annie just groaned and looked at me. "Please tell me you don't look like that, too?"

"Less obviously muscular," I promised, but I don't think it reassured her.

Noticing that she was attracting a little too much attention, Shelia growled at the men at the table beside us and then sat back down as if nothing had happened. With manners I didn't know she possessed, she daintily began to sip her cappuccino. She was ridiculous; even though I knew it would take a miracle, I hoped Embry could come up with a safe way for her to stay.

"Is Jacob a good kisser?"

Us hybrids turned to look at Annie. "What?"

She explained, "Since you've apparently sworn off all other men, and violated the rule to boot, I was just checking to make sure he's worth it. And since he really is ancient, that makes you jailbait, so I doubt he's done more than kiss you. So?"

"So nothing. I've never kissed him.

"So you're getting married to the guy without ever having even kissed him? That seems...smart."

How nice. Annie could reach Leah levels of sarcasm.

"That's not something I need to worry about," I told her. "When I kiss Jacob...it'll be perfect."

"Just because he's older doesn't guarantee that's true. The first time I kissed Chris I thought I must have screwed up somehow and been a lesbian the whole time because it was seriously that bad. Experience doesn't equal good."

"Yes, but the fact he's Jacob does."

"If he was that great a kisser I would know," Annie informed me. "The whole rez would know. Hell, I don't even think I can remember the last woman he was with."

"Bella Swan."

"Who?"

"Never mind." Even though I knew the answer, somehow it seemed too unbearably tragic too be true. "There was never _anyone_ you heard he went with?"

"Besides Leah Clearwater? No. And if that girl slept with half the guys people say she did, she'd be dying of something rare and incurable by now. Though she really should stop being naked in the woods with guys all the time."

"You could always ask Leah," Shelia suggested. "What he like."

Part of me realized Shelia was just trying to be helpful, but I couldn't help laughing. "That would only be the most uncomfortable conversation ever. Besides, she would just deny it."

"Couldn't hurt to ask," Annie said. "You should at least have second-hand information before you _marry_ someone."

"I am still not asking Leah if Jacob is a good kisser. If the survival of every creature on the earth depended on it, I still would probably not ask Leah if Jacob was a good kisser. So we can now drop this topic of conversation." Fortunately... "Our ride's outside. We have to go."

"Is that a Rolls-Royce?" Annie whimpered, suitably distracted. "Screw Jacob Black. Marry me."

"Two new dresses, a pair of boots and a proposal of marriage," I counted off. "Quite a productive day I've had."

"Ha." Even as she gathered up her bags, Annie had a hard time taking her eyes off the car. But when we got to the street her eyes turned to the woman standing in front of it, waiting for us to get in. Remembering her manners, she said, "Thank you for driving us, Miss Clearwater."

As Annie and Shelia climbed into the back, Leah made a choking sound. I tried to reassure her, "That's what being polite looks like. Please don't freak out."

"I'm starting to look like my mother. Do I look like my mother?"

Actually...but I wasn't foolish enough to say that. "You're twenty-six, Leah, hardly old by any standards. My father was born in 1901, in case you've forgotten. You're positively a child in comparison. Don't let a display of respect shock you into doing anything drastic."

"True. Okay. I'll kill myself tomorrow. Now get in the car."

"Yes, ma'am."

Esme had driven us over this morning, but somehow in the chaos of everyone's lives, Leah had ended up being the one to volunteer to drive us back home. I think she had been up in Seattle to visit her brother and hadn't protested too loudly when the car had been thrust upon her.

"You guys have fun?"

I had to list off the things I had bought, though it was more fun listing off the things I had stopped Shelia from purchasing. My sister had searched every specialty store from the one that sold medieval weapons to theone that that only sold cowboy hats. Since she had no concept of money at all, I had to explain each time why you couldn't buy absolutely everything you wanted to all the time. She had accepted it, but it hadn't stopped her from touching everything at the next store, anyway.

There was a brief argument about the radio—Leah said if there was a three minute guitar solo it wasn't a song, just music, and she would go to the orchestra if she wanted to hear that, while Annie believed religiously that songs without instrumental solos weren't worth listening to—but for the most part the drive home was fun. Leah may have been going faster than she should, but her reflexes were great and I don't think Annie noticed.

It was only after we dropped off Annie that Shelia remembered that she didn't have to be staring at the flashing colors in the window beside her.

"What we do about Nahuel?" she asked me.

"Is he still giving you trouble?"

Not wanting the situation to get out of hand, I tried to answer Leah honestly. "He knows he's lost. He's probably just going to make one last play before heading home."

"Kiss her," Shelia clarified. "Emotionally he can offer the child nothing that she cannot find of a superior quality elsewhere. However, life experience should have allowed him to perfect certain physical activities that have would be unfamiliar to the girl. If there is a vulnerability to be found, it is there, and he will discover this eventually. After all, it is terribly easy to mistake the effortlessness of a kiss for true emotion."

It took me a second to get over the shock at hearing Shelia talk like that, though I placed the voice quickly enough. "Elmira," I told Leah.

Leah smirked. "I suppose you could always put in Plan B into effect."

"That won't be necessary, Leah. He'll try, he'll fail, he'll leave. No need to make it more complicated."

"You want him to kiss you? Or just drive Jacob nuts with jealousy?"

"Neither." Despite the fact the whole world seemed to dislike Nahuel—an opinion he cultivated with seeming pleasure—I did not. I wanted him gone, but more than that I wanted him to...I wasn't quite sure. Grow up, perhaps, which sounded condescending and yet somehow right. Part of me still thought there was something worth knowing about the first boy who had ever shown interest in me, even if I wanted him far away from me while he discovered it. And I never wanted to hurt Jacob.

"So Plan B it is."

"This really doesn't have to concern you, Leah."

"It's a wolf thing, so it does," she assured me. "Now unless you really do want Mr. Grabby-Hands around you, you'll tell him to shove off in a certain direction. Okay?"

"Leah..."

"Or we could continue torturing Jacob. It's on you."

"Fine. We'll do it your way."

I had the tiniest desire to hit her, which is probably what she wanted. Leah seemed to enjoy it when people couldn't stand her. Today I didn't have time, seeing as we had pulled up in front of my house already. I said goodbye, but didn't wait for Leah to switch cars. She didn't want me to—dealing with Nahuel came first.

I found him on the couch, staring at the television without interest as the soap opera played out on the screen across from him. When I entered the room, he sat up quickly, as always willing to give me his full attention.

"Everyone wants you to leave."

There was no sense in hiding the truth.

A cold smile spread across his face as he stood and walked towards me. "And what do you want, Renesmee?"

When it came to Nahuel, the answer had always come easily.

"I'm not going to turn you out, even if you have abandoned your aunt for long enough. But you need to start leaving me alone. We aren't friends. We aren't siblings. We are not lovers and we never will be." I drew myself up, so I was ever so slightly taller than him. "We aren't anything at all, and the sooner you accept the sooner we might be able to _become_ friends. I would like that."

"Friends?" he echoed. After a quiet chuckle, he began to sneer at me: "As if anything but your immortality appeals to me."

It should have hurt—he meant it to hurt. But it didn't. He was my Leah. I wasn't about to write him off just yet.

"If it's immortality you're after than you're being ridiculously short-sighted. I'm not the only immortal out there. Vampires live forever, or had you forgotten?"

"As if one of the true bloods would ever condescend..."

And for a moment it was so easy to see the young boy who hated himself for every life he took, but hated his father more, for coming and failing to deserve a modicum of respect that it took my breath away.

"You're thinking inside the box. Vampires aren't all snobs. A newborn would welcome the help. Or...the Denali aren't like the others—there's Tanya. Or if you really dislike the idea of the vampires, you could always just do what your sister did."

"I am not pining after a Child of the Moon."

"What's wrong with the werewolves?"

"Besides the fact that finding one in this day and age is almost impossible, do you have any idea how uncontrollable they are? I'm not about to risk my life...and that was not what you were talking about." His eyes narrowed. "You were talking about your wolves."

I almost laughed. As if Jacob would ever allow me to help him with his family.

"Jacob's wolves. And yes, I was talking about them."

"About the woman—the oddity."

"She'd rather you say quirky."

"She's loud."

"That too."

"She would not be inclined to allow me near her, I think."

"Afraid of a challenge?"

Nahuel sneered again and just marched out of the room without another room. I had been dismissed. Would he pursue Leah, now? I thought so. He would not want to leave here empty handed—but if anyone could drive someone far from Washington, I was sure it would be Leah Clearwater. Let her have her fun, protecting Jacob in the ways that amused her best.

Besides, I thought, smiling to myself, even in the tiny chance that Leah failed to make Nahuel angry enough to leave...well, a hundred and fifty years had to have given the half-vampire some skills that Leah would appreciate.

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TBC... 


	50. Chapter 50

A/N: As this is chapter 50 (yikes!) I figured I should take a moment. But I think we can all agree I already go on enough as it is, so I'll keep it short. Thank you. Thank you to everyone who's been so patient with me, for forgiving the delays in updating, some strange grammar, my inability to tell you're from your, and my ramblings ;) Thank you especially to the people who have reviewed. This story would have been completely different (and a lot shorter, but I digress) if it hadn't been for your comments and suggestions. But I'm kind of proud of it as it is, so thank you again.

That didn't really capture the gravitas of the occasion, did it? Oh well, I'm tired. Writing 50 chapters will do that to you.

Chapter 50

"I really have outdone myself this time," Alice said proudly, surveying her latest masterpiece.

"I think Nessie may have played some small part," Jasper teased his wife.

"A small one."

"And we have to give Bella and Edward _some_ credit for their wonderful genes."

"I think you're trying to steal my thunder, Jazz."

"Never."

He gave her the fond smile he reserved only for Alice, while she grinned brightly. She should be in a good mood. Tonight, she really had created a masterpiece—the perfect poster girl for streetwalking. Which was the point. Tonight, my families were filling one of the last pieces of my social education.

They were taking me to a club.

Rosalie saw it as an opportunity to make up for her mistake with Nahuel; she was giving herself the chance to throw me at more men. Alice just liked the opportunity to dress me up, while my uncles let their wives have their way. Carlisle and Esme didn't want to get involved, just asked if I wanted to do this and smiled when I said yes. The werewolves had agreed to come along, partially because Jacob refused to let me go without him, and partially because now Leah could get my family to pay for a new dress without it feeling like charity.

I had been careful not to imply to Alice that I thought I looked too inappropriate (I didn't want to hurt her feelings and she was sure to know better than me what the proper standard was). But I was still a bit uncomfortable looking at myself in the mirror.

My hair was more of a living sculpture than a hairstyle. The makeup that was caked over my face provided a suitable mask—without looking like a clown I looked like a human who was capable of enjoying mind altering substances during a night out with her friends. No, I looked too be perfect to be human. The extremely short, strapless green dress with the sweetheart neckline that was so tight as to appear painted on wouldn't look flattering on one in a billion women.

It looked fabulous on me. The only problem was I didn't look like me anymore.

"I don't think Edward would approve," I muttered. It was foolish of me. Jasper would know better and Alice just shrugged. "We won't tell him, then."

My uncle had averted his eyes, waiting for my physical reaction before he decided on his course of action. Intellectually, I appreciated the respect he was showing to my wishes. Emotionally, I wished he would wrench my ability to decide right out of my hands. But he would not, so the action had to be mine.

Or the inaction.

"Thank you, Alice."

After all, I wouldn't be able to hear the scandalous thoughts people would have, seeing me like this. Only my own.

"Come on," Jasper beckoned. "They're getting anxious downstairs."

They would. Vampires and werewolves and Nahuel, oh my. If tonight wasn't a disaster, I would be very surprised. Still, I had conquered the sleepover and the high school dance. How hard could a nightclub be?

My aunt and uncle went down the stairs in front of me, to better announce me. I was the star, after all.

The werewolves had congregated on the couch, Jacob closest to the stairs, Leah, Quil and Embry sitting beside him (Shelia was sitting on the armrest beside Embry, and she looked so bored with the whole procession, that I smiled my first real smile of the night). Seth came over to talk to Alice, and to assure Jasper he would take good care of his wife. Jasper could not spend all night in a packed room full of temperamental humans and Seth was going for a personal record by still not having a girlfriend, so Alice and Seth were accompanying each other tonight. It made more sense than the fact Leah was calling Quil her date—I'm not sure who she was trying to annoy, but Nahuel, Jacob and Quil all hadn't been thrilled at her declaration (Jacob had said something about disturbing pack harmony, but had let her have her way).

The boys still wore jeans—it was the best Leah could do—except for Jacob. That helped somewhat, because they still looked vaguely familiar, or at least balanced my shock at seeing Leah's outfit, which I wasn't sure wouldn't fall down when she breathed. She was enjoying this far too much.

Nahuel was on the love seat opposite of the couch, his solitude quite the contrast to the crowd on the other side. I think the color of his shirt was the same color as my dress. Alice must have started feeling sorry for the way Leah had treated him. I think the whole state had heard her screaming.

Between the two groups sat Rosalie, legs crossed; red nails, red lips, red dress, the quintessential blond bombshell. Emmett, Carlisle and Esme were behind her—I assumed. You weren't really looking at what was behind her when Rosalie decided to look like that.

I turned back to Shelia, knowing if I looked too long at the others I might go crazy. The simple, small blue dress Alice had put her in (after quite a struggle and a phone call to her sisters) did nothing to hide the scars on her skin. Embry was stroking the one on her upper thigh. They, at least, still looked as supernatural as they should.

Jacob rose and offered me his arm, which I took. That left Nahuel alone amongst the couples, with Leah still growling at him. It occurred to me that Quil was here less as her date, and more to prevent her from permanently hurting the male hybrid. Fortunately, Seth and Alice were inviting him along with them (reluctantly, but still), so I relaxed and looked at Jacob.

The dark trousers looked good on him, even if they still smelt like plastic wrap. Of course they would. They had been bought specially for the occasion. Leah looked far too proud, despite her lingering eyes.

The Aston Martin only sat two, so Jacob and I drove to Seattle by ourselves. It was nice being alone with Jacob, and suddenly the fact that I didn't look like me became an asset, not a liability. Jacob couldn't take his eyes off the beautiful woman beside him and there was no discomfort in his carriage for once, no sign that he was dwelling on remembrances of my birth. I bit my over-painted lip and glanced over at him. He smiled—not a paternal smile or even a friendly once. I found myself returning it instinctively.

"You look great tonight, Nessie," he said softly, in a tone he had never used with me before.

"So do you. Though—never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Ness...if you can't tell me..."

I didn't roll my eyes at him; my willpower was impressive. I loved him, but Jacob Black was an idiot. I couldn't tell him half the things I wanted because I would rather stab myself a hundred times over than wound him in the slightest. He should know—it's what he did for me. But he still hadn't figured it out.

However, tonight I could afford to tell him: "I have no idea how to behave tonight."

"Just relax. Have fun. Try to keep your hands off me." He said it with a wink, to make me laugh, and I did my best to oblige him.

By the time we arrived in Seattle I think we were as close to flirting as we had every come before. When he helped me out of the car his hand even ended up a little lower than the small of my back. It made me blush, even as we rejoined the others.

"The line looks long," I commented, to distract from my embarrassment.

Rosalie gave a snort, as Alice piped up, "We're on the guest list."

"You do that," Leah said, taking my arm. Rosalie was on the other side and the two of them pulled me forward without another word. I glanced at Alice for help, but she rolled her eyes, Shelia just looked confused and Jacob was staring at my breasts. So I sighed and let them take me where they wanted me to go.

Which, it turned out, was straight to the door, past all of the humans standing impatiently in line. Despite the muttering, no one tried to stop us as we marched past everyone. Rosalie might have smiled, though I know Leah didn't. I tried to say thank you as the man at the front opened the doors for their expectant faces, but I don't think anyone could hear me. I couldn't hear me.

It was even louder inside.

It was filled with more people than I had expected (it had to be a violation of fire codes) with music I couldn't stand blasting away. The women on either side of me pulled me forward into the crowd.

Alice had booked us a private room, but Leah and Rosalie wanted to parade around a little bit. I think they were also attempting to give me a tour of the place, but I couldn't have cared less. It was dark, it was glittery—the smell of sweat hung in the air. When they finally headed up the stairs, past the men in black, I was relieved.

We ended up in a glass box above the main floor, filled with black couches and glass tables with a disgusting amount of alcohol on them, not to mention our own private bar complete with our own private bartender. The lack of privacy was astonishing, but I quickly saw the room could be completely closed off, if that was what you desired. I really hoped that's not what we wanted.

The rest of our group had finally caught up with us. Jacob collapsed on the couch closest to me and I joined him. When Shelia sat down beside me, trying to make good on her promise not to abandon me, Embry sat down beside her, so I ended up practically on Jacob's lap. Beside us, Quil, Leah and Nahuel had been smart enough to sit only three to a couch. Not that they seemed particularly thrilled with their location either.

The werewolves ordered ridiculous amounts of alcohol the vampires couldn't touch, no matter how covetously Emmett looked. They didn't want to be spitting up anything tomorrow. That didn't stop those of us who could consume liquids other than blood. Embry poured out drinks, even as Quil ordered more. Leah was turning to practical matters.

"Should she do a shot for every real year or every Carlisle year?" she wondered.

"I couldn't survive—"

"Twenty-four chromosomes," Jacob announced. "You can handle it. Quil?"

"On it," he said. I think he had dismissed the bartender. Rosalie and Emmett had curled up in a corner together, while Alice and Seth left to join the crowd of dancers below.

"Can I just do seven then, please?"

The thought of swallowing eighteen mouthfuls of poison did not seem appealing.

"You look a bit older than seven."

Before I could respond (and how was I going to do that?) Nahuel saw fit to drawl, "You Americans do seem to delight in getting intoxicated for no reason."

"Native American," Leah snapped. "And even intoxicated we could still kick your ass. So shut up already."

A smile appeared on Nahuel's face. He was amused by her spirit—interested. I don't think much had managed to rouse him for a very long time. Shellie had been right. He was looking for anyone, not me. Embry had been right, too—he was a bit of a dick.

"Drink up," Quil said, pouring the liquor, happily ignoring the rest of them. I did as I was told. It wasn't too bad. It possibly made me a little light-headed, but I think I was mostly fine. Fine enough to do another and another and another...

"Do you remember the first time you wouldn't let me sit on your lap?" I asked Jacob. "We were on the beach and Leah didn't like me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jacob said, but he was laughing.

"Leah remembers, don't you, Leah? You said I was his personal cheerleader, only I didn't know what a cheerleader was at the time, though I didn't want to admit it. PBS is rather disappointing in some regards."

"You're telling me," Quil agreed, even as Leah burst out laughing. It seemed to go on forever, echoing in the tiny confines of the room and I winced at the sound. And the drumming that seemed to accompany it. The drumming was giving me a headache.

"It figures you would be a lightweight," she said, handing me another drink. "Here, drink this."

"What?"

Jacob's hand wrapped around mine, steadying the glass. "Drink the water slowly."

"Look what you've done now, dog," Rosalie snarled, finally returning from whatever happy place she had gone to with Emmett. They were always off in dark corners together. "You said it wouldn't be a problem."

"Shelia drank most of us under the table. We thought the hybrids were all like that."

It might have been Jacob who was talking, or Quil—I wasn't too sure. I didn't care. I was too busy frowning. It hurt my forehead.

"Since when do you hang around drinking with Shelia? You don't even like her."

"Hey," Embry protested, but my best friend hushed him, with a quiet, "Truth."

"So Shelia can hang out with your friends, but I have to be chaperoned at all times?" I demanded of Jacob.

"She's older than you."

"And a hundred times more dangerous. What's wrong with you all? You startle her and you might all end up dead—and now you want to give her champagne?"

"It's too much for his tiny, tiny brain," Rosalie snapped, helping me stand. The floor was a little uncooperative, but Rosalie's hands were firm. "We are going dancing. Someone has to stop Alice from doing the Charleston. In public, no less."

"It doesn't look safe," Emmett agreed, coming around my other side. I never appreciated how his voice echoed before, and now I couldn't help giggling at it. "Edward's going to kill us all."

"Bad Daddy," I chided my missing father as we headed down the stairs. "Carry me, Uncle Emmett? I feel all funny."

"Don't even think about it," Rosalie warned him. "Now come on."

Down we went, like falling into a rabbit hole, but with no caterpillars at the bottom. The Queen of Hearts was hugging me tightly, as I watched the world spin around me. Out of the chaos, a familiar white face appeared.

"Is Alice flying?"

But blinking my blurry eyes didn't help me understand the problem. Nor did it when Rosalie sighed, "Lifts? She has him doing lifts?"

"Aw, Rose, it looks like fun."

"No."

"Nessie!" A very, very high-pitched voice cut across the dance floor. Alice couldn't have spoken an octave lower? "You're bright red."

"Vasodilatation. They failed to realize that Shelia's human metabolize, having been utilized during her formative years much more extensively than mine's ever been, is much more advanced." When Alice didn't appear to understand, I clarified, "I'm a lightweight."

Beside her, I could hear Seth laughing, though he stopped quickly. Rosalie had turned her formidable powers on him. "Fix her. She's shouldn't be..._this_."

"It'll go away in a few hours by itself. She's probably half-sober already," he assured her. That didn't work. Silly Seth. Rosalie didn't listen to other people unless they were doing things her way. "I'll just go fix her, then."

"Good plan."

Warm hands wrapped around my waist, and I found myself being led off in yet another strange direction. Thankfully, Seth was very nice to lean against. It was quite sad when I found myself sitting on a black couch. Even though it stopped the floor from moving, for a moment.

"I don't feel so good," I admitted, leaning my head on his shoulder. "Making the thumping stop?"

"It'll go away soon." I felt my hair being pushed off my cheek. Thankfully. It was getting very heavy. "You could have just said didn't want anything, you know."

I giggled because it sounded funny. When I realized it really wasn't, I couldn't help saying: "I really am bad at this human stuff, aren't I?"

"You're doing fine."

Now that I had a moment to breathe, now that I was finally beginning to relax, now that the alcohol was starting to wear off, I finally managed to put a name to the largest source of my discomfort.

"I can hear it inside of me," I admitted. "All that blood, just pounding away inside of them...all inside me. It's the first time I've ever felt it, this way. I think it might be the alcohol but I...I can feel it everywhere. It's making me crazy."

I finally looked up, remembering I wasn't the only supernatural. The two Seth's had finally become one, so I could address him properly while gesturing to the writhing masses: "How can you possibly stand the smell of all that?"

"Why do you think we're so quick to head to the booze? It helps drown in out, dull the senses...it's not great, but it helps a little. It's not like we can get drunk off of it. Though since you're family's paying tonight, they're going to try. It's been years." A small smile appeared on his face. "Embry and Quil used to go into bars, have a few drinks so they could pretend they were drunk. Then one of them would bet he could drink a whole keg—you would be surprised but how many people they suckered in with that one. They used to make a killing."

"It didn't kill them?"

"Nah. They just needed to hang around tree trunks and fire hydrants after. I think Embry's went for eight minutes once."

"That's disguising," I declared, but I was laughing again.

Seth didn't get a chance to defend his friends. I was suddenly pulled to me feet, as spindly hands wrapped around my wrists. As I swayed, Shelia somehow came into focus, so she could announce: "We dance."

"I didn't know you liked dancing," I said, as she led me to the dance floor.

"Embry said."

I glanced around, to see Embry was holding up my other side. He seemed to realize I wanted an explanation, for he said, "I'd rather not have Jake kill the kid."

"My Jacob would never lift a hand to hurt me."

"Which is why it's not your life I'm worried about."

I didn't get a chance to question him further because Alice was back, slightly more in focus than she had been before. "Bet you can still dance better than anyone here," she said, before grabbing my hand and trying to teach my body rhythm.

Embry was gone seconds later, but Shelia stayed with me. The three of us danced together—or Alice and Shelia managed to keep me upright between them, somehow. I just wish they would stop twirling me, but when I said that, Shelia just laughed—then I think I accidentally learned the polka.

The haze around my brain slowly lifted and I slowly started to notice the people around us. There weren't many—Rosalie had declared the Charleston off-limits, but we were still kind of spastic. But where the crush of people was the thickest there were people 'dancing' in a way that put the high schoolers of La Push to shame. They also would have been better suited for a porn film, but I digress. At least I was probably going to be sober in twenty minutes.

I didn't have that long.

Rosalie and Leah had not come here tonight so I could dance old-fashioned dances with people I already knew. That much was clear from the way they were stalking towards us, hips swaying, eyes blazing, getting people to move out of their way without a word.

Alice melted away, somehow, and I grabbed onto Shelia before she could escape too. Rosalie took my other hand and was pulling me deeper into the crowd. People were crashing into us, but Rosalie pushed me upwards. I fell against Leah, who was on some sort of raised platform in the middle of the crowd. She handed me back to Shelia, who had followed me. Then Leah turned to face Rosalie.

"Don't breathe on me," Rosalie warned her. "I'd say the same, but corpses don't breathe," Leah shot back. But despite their animosity, they pressed ridiculously close together and started...

Well, I'm sure there was a word for it. I just didn't care to use it.

It was only then that I realized no matter how long I called them by their first names, Rosalie and Leah were not my friends. It would have been less awkward if my mother had miraculously twinned herself and then proceeded to make out with said twin. At least I would have known that was impossible. Instead, I was stuck with Rosalie and Leah doing who knew what far too close together right in front of me.

And waiting for me to duplicate them.

I was sober enough now that I could, and aware enough to know that I didn't want to. But for one last time I would indulge the adults around me. Shelia looked at me and then sighed. "Hate you," she complained and then her arms came around me and pulled me right against her.

It wasn't that uncomfortable, I suppose. For all their attempts, Rosalie and Leah really couldn't stand the others smell and so would only get so close. With some skill and some luck, Shelia and I managed to keep even more space between us while not appearing to do so. And since we both had a good sense of rhythm, nothing too drastic happened.

Until Leah got lonely.

She didn't like Nahuel. She had made that perfectly clear multiple times before when she complained about everything from his teeth to his toenails. But suddenly I remembered that Leah had a tendency to argue with the people she liked best...why else would she let him press that tightly against her?

"Mind if I cut in?"

The voice came from above, startling me, though it didn't disturb Shelia. When I offered Jacob my hand, she took off into the crowd.

"She's pretty fast," he joked.

I wasn't in the mood. Jacob had taken my hands and stepped closer. Shelia may have been solid muscle, but she had been much softer than he was. Her hands had also been smaller, as they had unwillingly traveled over my back, my arms, my sides...Jacob had never been one to second guess himself. If he was here, he wasn't doing anything half way. The heat from his body was making me sweat, but that didn't stop him from pulling me closer. For some reason that was a little too much for me, and I spun around, so my back was firmly against his front.

I watched Shelia find Embry and head back upstairs. Through the glass I could see Quil pouring out more drinks, now talking to a cheery Alice and dutiful Seth. Emmett had gone to his wife's side and Leah was now allowing Nahuel to get to second base beside us. That was a little much.

But that wasn't the true source of my discomfort.

Not that...it was less discomfort and more shock that had me moving rather ungracefully. It was not that I didn't want Jacob to touch me. Nor were the feelings he was provoking unpleasant or unwanted—on the contrary, though I was sure Edward would not approve, I didn't mind the heat that was licking through me. But it was just that this was Jacob. Everything with Jacob was easy, effortless—so why was this slightly, subtly, somehow imperfect?

It took me a moment, but I figured it out. My heart wasn't hammering at the feel of Jacob's body beside me, though that would have been the natural human response. My throat was dry, my body was shaking, my heart was racing...all because beside me flowed over five liters of wonderful O negative, pounding away inside him, brimming with life. In this moment, when I was uncomfortable and confused, it wasn't Jacob I wanted.

It was his blood.

My back was to Jacob, and though his breath was hot on my neck, we were still facing the same direction. He couldn't see my face, thankfully, because I'm sure it had gone white. It wasn't supposed to be this way—Jacob would forgive me everything, but this...it was too easy to picture the disgust, the revulsion. This he could not understand.

I was distracted from my fear by the unpleasant sight of Nahuel leaning up to kiss Leah, and the more pleasant sight of her punching him in the jaw in retaliation.

Pulling away from Jacob, who had gone still at the drama in front of us, I dutifully went to help Nahuel, but there was no need. The hybrid recovered quickly. His eyes blazed as he rubbed his jaw and for a second I thought he was going to kiss her again. Instead, he hit Leah back.

I had only a second to be horrified and then I was pushed—not lightly, either—out of the way, so Jacob could better punch Nahuel in the face.

The sound of the full force of his werewolf strength hitting an almost invincible half-vampire was loud enough to attract the attention of everyone around us, despite the volume of the music. If that wasn't enough, Nahuel's roar of rage as he flew back at Jacob cemented their position at the center of attention.

Together they tumbled off the platform and onto the main floor. I was pushed this way and that way as the crowd moved, desperate to get out of the way as the two fought. Leah was trying to get between them, unsuccessfully. I could see Emmett, trying to find openings to grab the two combatants—the other werewolves were pushing their way towards us. They could handle those two. I could only hope it was before either one of those stupid boys was truly pushed through the throng of people by the other; the crowd would be lucky to escape with just a few broken bones.

Fortunately, two were wrenched apart and then escorted out by the security that Jacob (and the rest) easily dwarfed. With a sigh, I stopped, not certain if I wanted to follow them out and yell at them right now, or not.

Or not. They would call when they had a rendezvous point. In the meantime, Shelia was coming towards me.

"Brother in big trouble," she sighed. Then she caught sight of my face. "Nessie?"

"What?"

Her hands forced my face up, so she could study me careful. Her verdict was swift and sure.

"Hungry."

"What? No. That's not—"

"What we are. No shame," she shurgged. "You would understand if you tried—"

"No." I admit to panicking as she simply said what was on her mind. "Absolutely not. You can't even joke about this. It's not happening. It _can't _happen. I'm...I can't."

She sighed, still a little confused by the ways I tried to cling to the human world I didn't understand. Was she incapable of understanding? Was I? I wasn't sure. But all Shelia said was: "We should go."

At the first reasonable suggestion Shelia had made, I hurried to do as she said. The sooner I was away from all the delicious smelling people, the sooner I could put this whole night behind me. As long as that stupid pulsating noise stopped.

TBC...


	51. Chapter 51

A/N: I've had a very interesting week this week, from finally getting my wireless back (magically) to having a tornado touch down only a few blocks away (Canadian Twister, anyone?). I think this chapter is more a result of the weirdness than anything, but here it is anyway. Next chapter is the beginning of the end.

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Chapter 51

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When I pictured Jacob's family the first people that came to mind were the Clearwaters. It was an instinctive response, the result of observing the familiarity between them for so long. Not that I saw them as siblings—which was strange because Leah and Seth_ were_ siblings. Yet while I thought of Quil and Embry as Jacob's brothers (because they said so, because they acted like it, because they couldn't not think that way) I didn't always see Seth that way. And certainly never Leah.

They were a family in a different sense, one that I little understood, even though there was no denying they _were_ family.

The other members of the pack I also considered his family, even though I was rarely allowed to see them. It wasn't Jacob's fault that they didn't want to be around me; I understood his compromise with his vampire hating brothers and I wouldn't protest. But I imagined them sometimes.

When I was younger Jacob had Billy, the father who waited until I was almost two actual years old before meeting me. Looking back, Sue had probably forced him and only because she couldn't stand seeing Charlie upset. Even then, I had picked up on his hesitance. To say he was uncomfortable with me was an understatement. His whole life Billy had thought of the Cold Ones as the natural enemies of the tribe (maybe we still were). Then they had been the all too real cause of his son's violent transformation, and the thieves who had stolen my mother's too brief life.

And just as suddenly there I was, precocious, clever, too pale, too cold, too unreal—and his future daughter-in-law. It had been painful to see his barely hidden revulsion; my family made sure I did not see it often. Before Billy's death, I had only been in his presence a handful of times and never for the express purpose of seeing him.

Now that I was older I understood Billy's prejudice a little more, enough to forgive him, at any rate. Hadn't I—raised and nurtured by vampires—panicked and fled from them? Billy did not have my experience. He had his legends and he had his son (Edward had taught me much about the irrationality of fathers). No wonder Billy hated me. As far as he knew, I was stealing Jacob from his family. When I thought about Billy—and I rarely did, except for that one day a year when I couldn't not—I liked to think that knowing Jacob would stay in La Push might have convinced him to give me a chance.

When I thought of Jacob's family, I did not think of Rachel and Rebecca.

His twin sisters did not qualify. Rebecca might not have existed for all her brother talked of her. I knew Leah made Jacob send a card each Christmas and birthday. Inevitably, two months later he would receive a much delayed card with a page of excuses. Seth said she just lived in the now, a werewolf with blinders on, and it just wasn't in her nature to think about what wasn't there. Leah said she was a self-centered, self-absorbed, selfish bitch. Jacob said nothing.

Rachel was a different and more complicated story.

She lived in La Push and was married to a werewolf and had a son who adored his uncle. She couldn't be ignored. But somehow even I understood it was because she was Paul's wife (because Paul was pack, even if _everyone_ muttered 'asshole' under their breath when talking about him) that Jacob talked about her as much as he did. And since he rarely spoke about his pack with me, I hardly ever heard about Rachel.

Did she hate me because I was a vampire? A Cullen? An outsider? Did she hate me at all? Should I even care if she did? I had no idea.

Unsure as I was about her, it came as a surprise when Rachel called me up at the end of July and invited me over for lunch. She offered no explanation, just gave the time, date and location and explained her brother was coming as well. When I stumbled and stuttered in my shock, she calmly (if coldly) assured me she could reschedule if it was inconvenient, as she desired my presence strongly.

What had been her reason? I did not understand and she had just placed desert in front of me. Even though all the human food was making me sick, I hurried to devour the chocolate mousse. Rachel was a fair cook, but even if she hadn't been, I couldn't afford to offend her.

"Jake got more raspberries," Paul whined. His wife didn't even look in his direction, just kept her eyes on me like she had the whole night. It was left to Jacob to deal with Paul—which he did by throwing a berry across the table, right at Paul's forehead.

"Enough, children," Rachel snapped. "I thought we agreed you weren't going to piss off our guests, babe."

Suitably chastised, Paul shoveled the last bit of mousse into his mouth while simultaneously asking, "Can you let us go now? We still need Jake to fix the car."

Jacob stood even before Paul had finished. Rachel rolled her eyes, but agreed. I offered to help her with the dishes. She gave me a thin smile, which wasn't necessarily hostile, and accepted as the boys practically sprinted outside, eager to get away. Following Rachel into the kitchen, I could hear the werewolves though she couldn't.

Paul was apologizing to Jacob. "I tried to talk her out of it."

"Like you had a chance."

"Could have been worse. She could have wanted to invite Ed—"

The door closed; they were out of earshot. Despite the pack's low opinion of him, I thought Paul had raised a very good point. Today would have been much worse if Rachel had decided to invite my parents. Not that it had been bad, exactly. It hadn't been anything, really. Polite and awkward and nothing else. A conversation between strangers.

Rachel held out a dishcloth. "Dry them up and put them on the counter." Without ceremony, she rolled up her sleeves and began to clean. Were we supposed to talk?

"Paul must love being so close to the forest," I blurted out lamely.

Rachel said nothing.

Standing beside her as I was, I could hear the thump of her heart underneath the streaming faucet. It was ambient noise, like it had been all the times before and all the times after that night a month ago, when the blood had become the most powerful, seductive force I had ever encountered in my young life. I had to conclude that there had been some sort of aberration that night. Was it the alcohol? The crowd? I had a sneaking suspicion it had been me. The only other time in my life I could recall sensing the blood so acutely was my first night in La Push after my adventure with Shelia. I was beginning to think her habit of combining her favorite hobbies might have had actual practical reasons. Heightened senses seemed to lead to heightened cravings.

The trick would then be to avoid those sorts situations. That I could do. Now if only I could silence Shelia's voice in my head, the one that kept whispering _you would understand if you tried..._ She didn't have problems resisting the call of blood. Perhaps blood was like the other food I needed to stay alive—it smelt good, but after a tiny taste, I was ready to find something else. But this was not a hypothesis I could test...was it?

"You're nothing like the girl I'd thought he would end up with."

I jumped a little, having almost forgotten she was there. Clearly, blood was easy to ignore in certain situations. "I'm sorry?"

"Most of the girls around here...well, whatever you are, you clearly aren't trash."

"Thank you?"

"Not that—I've been avoiding you," she confessed. "Jake thinks it's because you're a Cold One which doesn't exactly thrill me but it's...that's not _the_ reason, you know? It's mostly because I can't figure out what the hell I'm supposed to say to you."

"You could just say congratulations and welcome to the family," I offered hopefully.

"That's one of the options," she admitted. "I'm so glad I've got twenty years until I have to do this for Will. It's too damn hard."

However little I thought of Rachel as family, she was now the closest thing to a concerned parent Jacob had. As little as he talked about Billy, Jacob never talked about his mother—he didn't remember enough to have anything to say about her.

What little I knew of Sarah Black I had to piece together from a hundred different conversations, none of which had been with Jacob. Yes, he might make an off-color joke to Leah about being an orphan, but no other information crossed his lips. It was left to others to tell me how she had died.

When Jacob had been eight, the twins had gone to Forks to visit the more extensive library. At eight o'clock, Billy was supposed to pick them up. Depending on which source was speaking, the reason why he failed to show up differed. Charlie said he had been busy with work and simply forgot. Sue said he had just been lazy. Leah said he had been sick. Embry and Quil reluctantly said he had been drunk. Bella couldn't remember at all. When I asked Seth he said he had been too young to know, but his father had always said that blaming someone wouldn't bring Sarah back—and if Seth really had to know, someone or another had confused the dates so Billy hadn't realized he was supposed to pick them up that night.

But however you looked at it, at nine o'clock the twins had called Sarah at work and she had agreed to pick up her daughters. Only the brakes failed at a stop sign and she lost control of the car and crashed into a brick wall. She wasn't wearing a seatbelt—the paramedics found her looking like some kind of ragdoll.

I wondered what Sarah would think of me.

Rachel finally told me what she thought: "It's easy to figure out what he sees in you. You're beautiful, you're brilliant, you're rich—you're going to do something with your life. But...have you figured out what that is yet?"

"Reproductive endocrinology and infertility sp—"

"You thought about where you're going to live? How you're going to keep from going crazy stuck here in the middle of nowhere? Or keep people from noticing you never age a day? They'll keep his secret—are you sure they'll keep yours? Have the two of you talked about kids? Have the two of you discussed _anything_?"

Belatedly, I remembered that Rachel was the smart one. Hadn't Seth complained that she had listened to his job description once and figured out what Jacob and the other werewolves still hadn't realized, even though blood was the most frequent word Seth used when talking about work? Of course she would find the slight flaw in our relationship after a single dinner.

"We have eternity."

"That's what he keeps saying. Just sounds like an excuse not to talk about it. Paul is a jackass," she announced with some pride. "But he's my jackass—and he always says exactly what's on his mind. I usually wish he wouldn't but...you can't not talk to Paul."

"We aren't avoiding conversation, we're simply waiting to have it. I haven't even turned eighteen yet."

And why was I pleading?

"Seven," she corrected, the way Jacob used to, and they really did sound like siblings in that moment. "Sorry. I'm doing this all wrong, aren't I? Oh well. Let's pretend I tried and leave it at that."

"If you just told me your intentions I could help with your comments, perhaps."

"I just..." she sighed. "Billy would have known what to say to you. I'm just screwing up. I'm not trying to scare you off, just...you can't expect it to be perfect. Or you'll just be disappointed. Okay, I'm done. No more being mean."

"You weren't—"

"A little bit. It wasn't great...I'm too tired to do it properly anymore."

"Tired?"

"Oh yeah. It's ridiculously tiring being mean. Hard to keep up for too long. Why else do you think even Leah's gone soft?"

"Soft?" Though I had the enhanced hearing, I jumped at the sound of Leah's voice while Rachel didn't look more than amused. "I have not gone fucking soft."

Standing in the door, even with Will in her arms, Leah didn't exactly radiate maternal warmth. Maybe a get-lost vibe, but definitely not softness. Yet Rachel took her time drying her hands before going over to take her son.

"Half breed left alive, didn't he? You're going soft." And in the same jovial manner, Rachel pointed out: "You speak like that in front of my kid again, and I'll rip your fucking tongue out."

Leah just laughed as she gave the child up to its mother before saying, "Sorry I'm early."

"You're not. And I didn't traumatize her, you can check." Then Rachel cooed to her son, "Who's happy to see Mommy? You are, yes, you are."

The transformation was so shocking—and ridiculous—I wanted to laugh. I had a sneaking suspicion that happy Rachel would be like happy Embry—a vast improvement on the original. Idly, I wondered what in the world happy Leah would be like.

"Ignore anything she said," Leah advised me. "She's just a bitter harpy."

"And you were always a mean old bitch."

Leah just smirked. "Old? I'm the one who's not aging. Nice wrinkles."

"She doesn't have any," Paul said. He and Jacob both crowded into the kitchen as well, so that there was a little room to move. No one else seemed to care. "I checked."

"Thanks." Rachel rolled her eyes. "Here, take your son."

"Try not to drop him," Jacob helpfully added.

Rachel's glare brought an apologetic expression to her brother's face, not that her husband noticed. He was too busy taking the boy in his large hands. There was a slight nervousness around Paul I found puzzling, if endearing. Shouldn't he automatically know to do everything by now?

But the puzzle presented by father and son was less distracting than the way Leah was simultaneously staring covetously at the boy and glaring at Jacob, daring him to try and comfort her.

"Hey buddy," Paul said. "Did Leah manage not to screw you up permanently?"

"I can screw up your face so even Rachel wouldn't recognize you," Leah reminded him.

"You can try."

Rachel smiled, even as Jacob subtly positioned himself between the two other werewolves, just in case. The mother said, "Most people would just say thank you."

"We're paying her sixty bucks. I can say whatever I want."

"Sixty? Seriously? Leah, could you try not to rob my sister?"

"We can afford sixty bucks, Jacob," Rachel snapped. While I believed it was true, I also think Rachel knew Leah was too proud to help for less, though she would have gladly done it for free.

"Ignore him," Leah advised. "He just can't stop himself from helping the poor defenseless _girl_."

"Any time you want to let it go..."

"I'm sorry, big, strong Alpha. I didn't mean to talk out of turn."

"You're making me wish he had hit you harder."

"Would you have rushed to my defense faster?"

"Jake?" Paul asked. "You wouldn't hit me if I punched Leah right now, would you?"

"But Leah would, babe, and I don't want to spend my night hanging around the emergency room." Rachel eyed her son—I couldn't blame her for wondering if the presence of the boy would finally get the werewolves to behave civilly.

"It doesn't make sense for you to be upset," I tried to soothe Leah. "Nahuel's stronger than all the werewolves. Jacob's more used to serious injuries; be glad it was him."

The one positive result of my comment was that the werewolves stopped glaring at each other. It was nice having them all united in glaring at me, as Rachel sighed and muttered under her breath, "Learn how to read a room."

"The smurf didn't beat me," Jacob snapped and Leah added her support while Paul just nodded, even though he hadn't been there that night. "He wasn't even close."

I could have pointed out that Nahuel was almost seven times Jacob's age and therefore probably knew a little bit more about fighting, but I held my tongue because I was outnumbered. I wonder if Jacob understood it wasn't that I _wanted_ to defend Nahuel's appalling behavior or his recent flight out of the country—I had no choice but to do so. He was my brother.

"I meant stronger in a metaphysical lyrical abstract metaliteral way. Obviously."

Fortunately, Rachel was the only one who was sure it was a hundred percent pure crap and while Leah's eyes narrowed impressively, Jacob was at least pretended to believe me, if only to keep the peace. Paul, who might have actually believed me, just started whining.

"Are you guys going anytime soon?"

Rachel sighed while her brother retorted, "Like we'd want to stay around you."

"You want a ride, Leah? I have to drive Jacob back anyway."

"Yeah, sure, why not? As long as you meant ride in the physical abstract way."

Fighting off the blush, I agreed that was exactly what I meant.

We gave our thanks to Rachel and Paul and then we were leaving. Since I had the keys, I went to the driver's seat. Funny how we had come full circle, Jacob and me in the front, Leah in the back. It was almost as funny as having Rachel studying me all through dinner.

Paul and Rachel and Will came out to see us off. Paul was holding their son, but it was Rachel who moved Will's tiny hand like he was waving us goodbye. He _was_ a little cute; the picture they made of familial bliss was rather sweet in its stereotypical presentation.

"What did Rachel want?" Jacob demanded the second the house was out of view.

"I think she just wanted to meet me."

"Yeah, right," Leah snapped from the back. "I might have a monopoly on bitter, but Rachel's got one on fucking with Jake's life—but only when it's convenient for her. Ignore her."

"She was just trying to fulfill her familial obligation as best she could."

"Rach wouldn't know familial if it bit her on her ass," Jacob muttered.

"Perhaps," I allowed. As strange as it sounded, I would have believed Jacob if he had said his sister had been more concerned about my welfare than his. Maybe I had seen tiny remnant of pity for the girl who could have done so much, if only he hadn't needed her to stay. Rachel was happy anyway, even if it wasn't perfect; I could settle for imperfection. "But she did invite us over. And you can bet that wasn't Paul's idea."

The werewolves laughed, then agreed that was true. Afterwards, we lapsed into silence. We had too much to say to each other now. I much preferred the untraditional family model we had before.

When my parents called in that night to check on me, like they did every night, I had the strangest sense of gratitude.

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	52. Chapter 52

Happypocky: Nessie calls both parents by their first names (she started mentally doing this when she came back from Canada—she's back but everything isn't the same, no matter what she does), unless she's talking about them as 'my mother' or 'my father'. She does this for both of them, though based on the contexts in which she usually refers to them, and how I think the sentences would best sound, Bella just tends to get called by her title more.

Chapter 52

"Cowboy boots?"

"They're cute," I defended myself. Not that it stopped Seth from laughing at me, as he stood in front of my door. "I bought them because they amused Shelia."

"Because they're funny." Seth couldn't help but add, "If you Cowboy and me Indian, should I worry about getting lassoed?"

"Only if you try and scalp me." I closed the door behind me and he followed me into the woods, no questions asked. Maybe he assumed I wanted some last minute advice about college, since I would be leaving for Dartmouth tomorrow—and coming back for my birthday in a week. I was trying not to think about how I would be eighteen very shortly, nor about the awesome party that Alice was preparing for that day.

Seth obligingly distracted me: "Are we heading somewhere with cover? The rain's going to come any second now."

I glanced up at the dark sky—the only surprise was that the rain hadn't fallen yet. "It's close by. If we're lucky it won't start pouring until we get there."

"It's raining, it's pouring.  
The old man is snoring.  
He went to bed and bumped his head,  
And he couldn't get up in the morning."

Seth finished the ditty with a laugh, but I could only say, "That's horrible. Concussions aren't some kind of joke."

"No, it's...wow. It really is." Seth looked stunned. "I've never thought about it like that. Way to kill my childhood memories."

"I don't mean to."

He laughed. "Not your fault I still find nursery rhymes far too amusing. 'Hey Diddle Diddle' is still classical poetry as far as I'm concerned."

"I don't know that one. I don't know very many, actually. Jacob was the only one who tried to teach them to me, but he waited until four years after my birth, which...I was a little too old by that point. But I wouldn't forget it, even if I could. It was that horrible."

"Which one? Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater? Mom hates that one."

"Never heard of it. He taught me 'A Hunting We Will Go.' Because we were going hunting." The literalness would have appealed to me. "It was alright, until the end. Then it became needlessly cruel." I shivered, then recited:

"We'll catch a fox,  
And put him in a box  
And never let him go."

"It's not right," Seth said. "Not that—I don't want foxes in boxes either, but I always thought the line went 'and then we'll let him go' instead. I'm almost sure of it."

"That's not how I learned it. Though I'm sure there are many different variations of all these nonsense rhymes. What does it really matter?"

"Changes how I feel about it."

I didn't have an answer to that, which was fine because we had finally arrived at our destination and Seth wouldn't have heard me anyway. He was too busy going into sugar shock at seeing Emmett's Lego dream house.

"Awesome."

It was. Emmett had outdone himself when building it. Designed by Esme, of course, it had taken the two of us (and whoever was foolish enough to allow themselves to be cajoled into helping) a long time to construct, even if it was terribly small. But it had been worth it. In bright, primary colors the building just screamed welcome to everyone. Not that anyone outside my family had seen it. It was buried too deep on our land.

I motioned to the bright red door. "After you."

"Why thank you."

And he turned the square-shaped handle with obvious delight.

It was a small building, smaller than even the cottage. Emmett had wanted it for two purposes: to amuse himself and to destroy it in the funniest way possibly. Unfortunately for him, Rosalie wouldn't set foot inside it. So the small sitting room (and the bedroom behind it) still remained intact even after all this time.

"Is _everything _Lego?" Seth asked.

"No. Only about ninety-five percent. The wall is reinforced and..." he didn't want me to ruin the mystery. "Other things."

"Awesome," he repeated. Flopping onto the couch—the frame was Lego, though the upholstery was not—legs stretched out so his feet were on the coffee table, he turned to look at me, wide smile on his face. "So what did I do to deserve to see such greatness?"

Now that my moment had arrived, the nervousness in my belly became full on panic. What if he thought I was presumptuous? Disgusting? Crazy? The blood fled my face. What if—?

"You don't have to do it if you don't want. I completely understand. I know it's weird and freaky and just plain gross. I don't even know why I'm asking, to be honest. Well, I do, but I know my reasons don't actually have any logical basis. I know—"

"Why don't you just tell me what it is before you have a heart attack?"

He said it kindly, as always, which may be why I blurted it out.

"Can I bite you?"

Seth took it rather well, surprisingly. He didn't laugh in my face, he didn't scream, he didn't run away. He just raised his eyebrows a little (a lot) and repeated: "Bite me? Like..._suck my blood_, bite me?"

Blushing, I agreed that's what I had meant.

"Can I ask why?"

Unsure of what his tone conveyed, I hurried to oblige. "I've been trying to be human for as long as I can remember. I'm not always very good at it, but I've learned a lot. And my family...you know I've had some problems accepting them over the years, but I do understand that they're vampires and I love them anyway. But I've never...I'm part vampire. And I don't know what that means. If I ever want to find out...now is my only chance."

"Now?"

"Can you really see Jacob encouraging this? Everything else, yes, but not... he'll think I'm evil or something just for suggesting it." I dropped my eyes. "That's why I had to ask you. You're the only werewolf who wouldn't run away screaming—and werewolf blood is probably safest, seeing as it's less appealing than human blood. Besides, Annie's the only human I'm close enough with to risk asking, and she's already pushing plausible deniability to the limit. The vampires are out of the question, because I don't think drinking venom would be good for me. As for the half-vampires, it's not the same thing, and even if it was..."

"They'd get the wrong idea."

"Exactly." They were already too used to being killers. I didn't want to encourage them. But I was also so very curious. "Can you help me?"

It was a quiet for a long time, as I gave Seth time to process my request. Mainly, I fidgeted while he just sat on the couch, stunned. I wasn't sure if he was in shock or thinking it over, but I was too scared to look at see what his expression might be.

"Okay."

I couldn't believe it.

But he held my wide eyes and repeated: "Okay. You want to bite me? Let's do it."

He held out his arm, uncertain, but not shaking, looking at me questioningly. He didn't know how this worked—that made two of us.

"I would rather you were lying down," I began. "I'm not sure how much I can take...I don't want your heart to strain, or you to fall over and make things worse."

"Lying down on the couch," he agreed.

"I need to find something to use as a napkin. We leave bloodstains and even Emmett will notice."

"Right."

Seth was still too stunned to do much else besides what I told him, so he lay down without protest. I searched through the shelves for something to use to catch any stray drops and then bandage Seth up afterwards. Everything was either too small or too big. That's when I remembered Emmett must have brought some clothing for Rosalie to the house. It wouldn't be very big...but it should be enough. As long as it wasn't all sheer...

In the bedroom drawers I found a tiny red nightgown that Rosalie would never remember buying and then went to the vanity Emmett had designed specifically for her to grab a tube of lipstick. Back in the living room, Seth had kicked off his shoes and moved a pillow under his head so he looked quite comfortable. He was also laughing to himself.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Just some innocent bloodsucking," Seth replied, making himself laugh again. Only when I knelt on the floor beside him did he stop long enough to look at me. "Why does this require make up?"

"I have no idea what I'm doing," I admitted. "I don't want to get it wrong. It'll help me mark where to bite."

"Oh. Okay. So which blood vessel are you going after?"

"I have no idea. Suggestions?"

"Call me old-fashioned," Seth said, "But what about you just go for the jugular? If you're going to be a vampire, do it properly, I always say."

He made me smile, even if I couldn't stop worrying: "And if I get the carotid artery instead? You could bleed to death in minutes. Or if I get both?" I would have exactly seventeen seconds to watch Seth die. Not a plan I liked.

"You won't bite the wrong one." He must have seen that I wasn't going to risk that because he offered another suggestion. "So don't go after one of the big ones. The external jugular or the anterior jugular are probably safe enough."

"Probably?" I disliked the word more than the suggestion. It made sense. "Okay. External it is. Here I go."

Since I was already on his left side all I had to do was put a coat of lipstick on, lean over and press my teeth and lips against the side of his neck. I ignored how he smelt like earth and sea, while not even thinking about the taste of his skin because I was determined not to blush—this was a scientific endeavor, after all. I pulled away quickly, surveying my work. Then I frowned, licked my fingers and started rubbing off the lipstick.

"When I do this," I said as I tried to figure out how many millimeters I had to move so the bite would be perfect, "It'll probably hurt. I'm not venomous so it shouldn't be too bad, but it'll probably still sting."

"Embry doesn't mind." We snorted in unison. Seth continued, "I used to bite Leah all the time as a kid. It's only karma."

"Yes, but if it hurts too much, or if you start feeling cold or faint, just pull on my hair and I'll stop. Okay? And don't you dare not do it because you don't want to hurt my feelings, because I will kill you. Maybe literally."

"I promise not to be brave at all," he said solemnly. "You'll do fine. Just go with your gut."

I snorted.

"I'm sure thinking about it really hard will work, too."

I smiled, just a little bit, mostly so he wouldn't be too nervous. "Ready?"

"When you are."

He tilted his head back and this time the lipstick mark was exactly where I wanted it to be. Still kneeling beside him, I had to use my right hand to hold my hair back while the left clutched the couch. With Rosalie's nightgown beside Seth's neck, everything was in position.

So I leaned right over and bit through the skin.

It was not what I expected.

For years, I had lived primarily off of animal blood. I was used to the taste—I loved it, but I was used to it. Seth, I assumed, would taste similar. The fact he was a werewolf made my hypothesis more likely. Only I had been very wrong.

If animal blood was ambrosia, then I lacked the words to describe human blood. Delicious didn't capture the way a single drop made my whole body hum in pleasure. It was like a warm bath, for my very soul. Heroin wasn't addictive enough. The second the warm liquid touched my tongue, I was hooked. I had to have more.

I let go of my hair, let it fall everywhere so I could grab Seth's shoulder, pull him closer. The tiny part of me that was still Renesmee Cullen heard him hiss in pain as my mouth clamped down even tighter, but I didn't stop. When Seth moved his hand to the back of my head, I almost cried in disappoint, terrified he would pull me away—but all he did was tangle his fingers in my hair and keep my head where it was.

And still, I wasn't close enough.

I felt myself move, standing up and shifting over, adjusting my body so the angle of my mouth was better. That was the only thing that mattered. My fingers were digging into his shoulder, but his hand on my waist kept the rest of my body steady and the blood continued to flow. Thank God, the blood continued to flow.

It was the moan that stopped me, something guttural and primal torn from my throat, so not me that I shocked myself. The fear that accompanied it was enough to make me let go, even as my body screamed at me to stop.

That wasn't the only thing me body had to tell me. It also, belatedly, informed me that I was now quite comfortable straddling Seth Clearwater, my face inches from him. Information that would have been useful, before, but better late than never.

I focused on putting pressure on his neck, not that I had to worry about much. It was already healing over. In a few minutes, he wouldn't even have a bruise. "I don't think we have to worry about you bleeding out," I announced, trying not to look at him. It didn't work so well.

"You've got..."

His thumb against the corner of my mouth felt like it was burning, which was similar to how my entire body felt like it was on fire. The hazard of being on top of a werewolf, I guess. Or maybe it was because his eyes were firmly on mine. Or because when his thumb pulled away there was blood on it...

My lips engulfed his thumb, tongue desperate to get every last drop.

"Yummy," I whispered. And without thinking—because who was doing that anymore?—I leaned over to kiss him.

And found myself flat on my back on the ground beside the couch.

"Ow."

The tears that sprang too my eyes were not from the pain—my ego was far more bruised than my back, though Seth hadn't exactly been gentle when he threw me to the ground. It was the humiliation I couldn't stand.

Seth cursed, then asked, "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Just give me a second."

"Nessie—"

I quickly sat up, because Seth's attempt at sitting wouldn't go well. He ended up swaying, so I had to catch him, and help him lie back down. "Don't stop putting pressure on it. And stop moving—you'll be lightheaded for a bit."

"I'm fine." But he stayed still as I fussed around, making sure his neck was properly looked after. "Well, I guess we know bloodsucking tends to lead to bloodlust."

That was somehow worse than getting thrown on my back. My embarrassment became tinged with anger and I found myself snapping: "Why do you always do that? What point could possibly be served in pretending to be stupider than you actually are?"

"Excuse me for trying to help my brother's girlfriend."

Never before had I been so intensely aware that Seth and Leah were siblings, though I had assumed that sort of venom would only come from her. The label stung as much as the furious, accusatory tone. I had always preferred accusations that were exact.

"Your almost brother's almost girlfriend."

"That what you tell Jake?"

"Jacob's never bothered to ask."

"Then why the _hell_ are you agreeing to marry him?"

"Catch a fox and put him in a box and never let him go." The rhyme came unbidden. "It's horrific. It's cruel. It's what will happen to him if I don't."

Standing up—I wasn't calm enough to stay crouched over him—I turned to face Seth. He was sitting up now, though he still looked a little too pale for comfort. "If I go to Jacob right now and tell him I don't want to marry him, we both know what he'll do. He'll say okay. He'll sincerely wish me all the best_._ If I need to call someone in the middle of the night, he'll answer. If I need a shoulder to cry on, he'll be there. And it won't matter that it's not him I'm with at the end of the day, because he loves me so much. But he'll be alone forever if I'm not with him. And I can't—I can't, Seth. I do love him and can't let that happen to him. I want him happy and the only way he can be happy is with me."

"Who says it's like that?" Seth demanded. "You want nursery rhymes? Here's one:

A wise old owl sat in an oak,  
The more he heard, the less he spoke;  
The less he spoke, the more he heard;  
Why aren't we all like that wise old bird?"

"Not this again."

"Yes, this again. Fuck, Nessie, did you ever think that maybe when Jake says he wants to do whatever you want to do he means _he wants to do whatever you want to do_. It's not some noble gesture—it's what he really thinks. He's told you a billion times he just wants you to be happy. So _listen_ to him. You don't have to be with him."

"And leave him to die alone? I don't think so!"

The raised voices made me a little nervous, but the emotion had to go somewhere, had to get out of me where it was making me crazy. A little volume never hurt anyway. Still, it shocked me to watch Seth essentially yelling.

"Who said it's going to be like that? _You_ _don't have to take care of him_. That's the rule."

"Just because he's older—"

"Yeah, because he's older. But not just that. Because he forced this on you. Because he's had time to figure shit out. Because he knows something outside of you. Because he raised you and not the other way around. It's on _him_. Not you. He owes you—and you don't owe him. You don't have to do anything for him. Everyone's been telling you this for forever and you don't listen. You are not responsible for him."

"I'm his _soul mate_. I think that means I can be as responsible as I want to. If I'm not, then who is? I expect this from my family, but you're a werewolf, Seth. You should know better. You know I'm the center of his universe."

"We don't know that it works that way."

"Yes, you do. Leah said—"

"Leah?"

His voice had gone queerly, quietly speculative. I reminded him: "Your sister?"

"What does—?" After a long moment, he finally forced out, "You were wrong before; I act stupid because I really am a moron. You told me you were going to help Leah—and the next month you're engaged. And it worked, didn't it? Leah's at least pretending to be happier than she has in over a year."

The expression on his face scared me. "Seth..."

"What did she say to you?" he demanded. "Or was it Jake? No, it would have been Leah. He wouldn't have put himself before you. He—he loves you. And whatever she feels for you, she loves him more. She'd be insane enough to dump all this on you—I can't believe her!"

"How was she wrong? Tell me, Seth, because I would really love to know. If I'm supposed to be Jacob's soul mate, doesn't it make sense I should be with him?"

"Soul mates is a _guess_. We don't know what it means for sure."

"I know what it feels." I sat back on the couch, closer than I should, probably, but I was tired of caring. I had to make him see. "When I'm with him...it's different than with anyone else. It's like when you know the right answer on a test, but all the time. The thought of being with him forever makes me happy. I don't even have to think about it."

Seth started to laugh. It wasn't exactly amused, but it was laughter. "Since when do you like not thinking?"

Ay, there was the rub.

"Maybe that's why I like spending time with you so much."

"Stop it." He wasn't even looking at me anymore, just stared at the Lego bookcase like it was that much more interesting than our conversation. It was towards the wall that he directed his sigh. "I haven't even _done_ anything and Embry's already convinced Jake's going to kill me—not to mention your Dad won't talk to me. Imagine what would happen if..." He looked at me then, in a way that made me tremble and made me feel utterly happy all at the same time. "They have every right to tear me apart."

And in that moment all the humiliation and embarrassment fled and was replaced by something infinitely more wonderful. Because Seth might be worried, but underneath the guilt there was something that meant I wasn't just a stupid child with a stupid crush. Yet I couldn't stop my brain from ruining everything.

"I thought Edward was upset with you because of your work."

"That was...let's say...forty-five percent of it." My father was too scared to get his hopes up after all this time; and even less inclined to watch Seth spend decades searching for what might very well be a non-existent cure. "And fifteen percent was just the fact I wasn't going to med school liked he had hoped."

I couldn't help the tiny smile. "And the last forty percent?"

"It wasn't..." he closed his eyes and I let myself brush his hair off his brow, even as I checked his neck to make sure he was doing all right. It just looked like a superficial bite mark now, so I rolled up the cloth as Seth searched for the right turn of phrase. "It wasn't that I noticed you. He wouldn't have held that against me. And I don't even think it was that I kept thinking about what I noticed—" I suppose it was a good sign that he could flush, now. I just enjoyed it because it made him look too sweet "—it was more that...the thoughts after the thoughts about you didn't involve dragging you to a Church or swearing my eternal devotion."

"He was angry you just wanted to fool around with me?"

"Shut up," he said as I giggled, though he was trying not to laugh too. When I stopped, however, he answered quite seriously. "More like I want like to spend two hours alone with you without one of us being ordered away by someone first. You know?"

"Yeah." Despite his poor articulation, I understood. Seth hadn't been blessed like the rest of them. It would take more than a glance to decide his future. It would take something that was absolutely impossible for him to achieve with Jacob's imprint. "I understand. I'm sorry I put you in this position."

"Just as much my fault as it is yours. Maybe more my fault; I could have avoided you."

"Does it make you feel better, assuming sole responsibility? It usually helps me."

He laughed and then tugged my leg so I ended up straddling him, knees on either side of his slender hips. It was possibly because he wasn't quite comfortable moving himself, possibly because it really didn't make much difference anymore. Either way, I was much very interested in how he felt, underneath me, in front of me, all around me, solid but not confining. And warmer than anything.

"I never thought," he observed, "That I'd meet anyone who tried harder than I do. But there you are."

"Makes us both kind of pathetic and needy, doesn't it?"

I guess I was leaning over a little too much, because our noses were somehow touching, and I could feel his warm breath on my face when he agreed, "Very."

Curling my fingers into the thin material of his t-shirt, I shivered as his nose traced the lightest of paths from my nose to my jaw and then down my throat. My eyes fluttered close and my head tilted back, somehow liking how it made me feel exposed. And in the darkness I came to a decision.

"It also makes us kind of awesome."

"Definitely," he agreed. And then his lips were branding my throat.

My eyes flew open.

"There. Now we're even."

There was a finality in his voice—thus far and no further. Or maybe I was reading into it what I needed to hear—we were already far too close to the impassable line for my comfort. Eyes open, I regarded Seth as calmly as I could.

"You're not going to come next week, are you?"

"I'll send you a present or something," he promised. "It's just...if you're right, and you're always right, and even when you're not, this probably isn't one of those times, I don't want to be there."

"What if I'm wrong?"

He didn't think I was, despite what he had said. They didn't know, and he thought they had been wrong to tell me speculation—but their best guess said I was the only thing Jacob could ever want. "You won't need me there. Hey, and this way you can invite the hybrids, right?"

"Joy."

Seth chuckled. "I'm sure they aren't that bad."

"Care to bet money on that?" I asked as I slipped off him. Seth just laughed as he stood; he needed my arm to steady himself, but after a second he appeared recovered enough. He would get home all right. And I wouldn't see him again until Christmas, if that. It was better this way, but I still felt like something was burning behind my eyes.

"How should I do my hair?" I blurted out.

"What?"

"I'm going to stop aging very soon and my hair is just going to stop. Rosalie wants it straight, but Jacob and Leah like it curly...I've been doing a sample poll. And don't ask how I like it because I have no idea. It's just stupid hair."

"I like your hair," he muttered. Yet he took his mission seriously. His forehead wrinkled as he tried to figure out an answer. "Can't you just leave half of it straight and half of it curly? That would look sort of cool."

He tugged half my hair this way and that, trying to illustrate what he was describing. Half way through laughing, the answer came, shocking me because it was so obvious. I really was a little fool.

"Thank you," I said, not bothering to keep the smile off my face. "For everything."

"I would say the same, but you have some pretty sharp teeth. Call me when you've got a free minute, okay? Let me experience the awesomeness of Dartmouth second hand."

"Promise."

Unsure exactly how we should end the conversation, we both just stood there eyeing the other warily. A hug was far too intimate right that second, but, after all, we had been friends my entire life. I didn't want him to leave with just a handshake. It came to us both.

Two fists, two voices saying "Knuckles," a nod, a smile, and then Seth walked out of the red door.

My neck was still burning.

A/N: I'm going to combine two requests I once got, though I doubt this is the way they were meant. If anyone is interested, I'm going to post an excerpt for this story later tonight titled _Three Wise Monkeys,_ because I'll take any excuse to write werewolves. And I wanted to revisit the question of what Jacob/Leah were up to for the first thirty chapters one last time before Nessie's birthday.


	53. Chapter 53

A/N: The next chapter will be up on Wednesday.

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Chapter 53

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"You must disrobe."

And that was one of the many reasons I hadn't wanted the hybrids to come.

Since I was taking too long to follow Sakhet's orders, Elmira spoke up, taunting, teasing, cruel. "What does it matter, child? It was never your body and it will be his soon enough."

A horrible, terrible, medieval way of putting it—but as usual I couldn't help agreeing with her. The whole point of today was to give myself (and my future) to Jacob, the way he had once given himself to me.

"Sisters have vast experience," Shelia reassured me. "And Nessie is perfect now. Why be shy?"

Because all three of them—and I said this was love—were beyond creepy? I let them strip me and lead me to the streaming tub, anyway.

It was an embarrassing way to be reacquainted with the hybrids, but I had arrived back in Forks only the night before and they had requested to not be disturbed. Now that the transformation had occurred, now that decay had left my cells, I needed them. Before I could allow the engagement to occur, I had to make sure the bloodlust would not be a problem. Unfortunately, the only way to placate them had been to agree to the worst torture known to man.

They wanted to 'prepare' me for the party.

For some reason, this required me to sit naked in a tub. Shelia thoughtfully slipped in as well, and was having far too much fun with a rubber duck as Sakhet watched and Elmira painstakingly plucked out every stray hair on my body. It had to be pulled out by the roots, or it would stay embedded in my skin for all eternity. Gross.

"How many times have you two been married?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the ceaseless pinching sensation.

"Three," Sakhet announced. "The first two died quickly. The third..."

Was the father of her son. They had not told me the ultimate fate of the human who Joham had 'blessed' with immortality, but I could see it was not something I wanted to know.

"Twenty-one." Elmira always did know how to divert attention.

"Oh. Did you ever bite any of them?"

I made a mental note never to play poker with Elmira. Her face was too smooth, too perfect. There was nothing in her countenance that suggested she disliked even one of those men, though I knew enough about her father to suspect she had not chosen any of them herself. All she did was say, in a perfectly measured tone that gave nothing away, "The less contact with my husbands the better."

Shelia translated for me. "Nessie is afraid she is going to bite Jacob. Afraid of the way the blood is calling to her, like never before, sometimes.

Sakhet came over from the window to join us by the bathtub. "Your body craves most what will bring it balance when your emotions slip too far to an extreme. It is a skill you will develop the more temptation you resist."

I had been to the extremes of only embarrassment and lust. It was a rather pathetic, when you thought about it.

"You have been fortunate, little one," Elmira cooed. "You have never known real hunger, when chewing your own hand seems reasonable if only the burn in your stomach will stop. You have never known real fear, when life shrinks to a moment and all you believe is left is to bow your head to accept death. You have never known real happiness, the moment of love that makes all other moments pale and lifeless in comparison. You have never known real pain, when you would gladly embrace death except he now spurns you. You have been fortunate to be so safe."

I suppose that was one quality in the hybrids' favor. They explained the why before they explained how to stop the strange urge I sometimes had to sink my teeth into the closest person to me.

Get yourself out of the situation. Control your emotions. Bite your lip—spill you own blood and it may be sufficient.

I was rather unimpressed with their advice, though I recognized it was probably sound. I complained about it anyway. It was the only way I could avenge myself against Elmira's plucking.

I was very glad when Sakhet announced they were done. Shelia gave me a prey mantis hug, which required Elmira to dry me yet again. Sakhet said something in a long dead language—her expression was reverent, so I assumed it was a blessing. I think I would have been touched if they had bothered with a housecoat, a towel, or s_omething, _anything so I wasn't standing naked in the bathroom. Not that they noticed.

Once Sakhet finished, Elmira produced the softest, whitest dressing gown that I had ever seen. Hand woven, the silk garment was fit for a queen. She did not explain where she had gotten it from, just whispered so quietly I almost missed it: "Mazel tov."

It was a strange thing for her to say, not what I had expected from the half-Arab anti-religious half-vampire, which is the only reason I began over-analyzing it. Did she mean to wish me good luck? Congratulations? Simply repeating a blessing that had once been bestowed upon her? Did she realize how fitting it was, to offer me good mazel, the destiny that flows down to us from above? The Talmud says we are not limited to our mazel, our fates—too bad I had never appreciated religious texts.

Elmira left me quickly, so the Cullen women could claim their own.

They were in a flutter of excitement today, the day of my eighteenth and seventh birthday, even if they did have different ways of expressing it.

Alice was more bubbly than usual (if that was even possible), bouncing off of everything. She had found the perfect dress for today. I had requested something plain, so Alice had found a dress that on first glace appeared to be the simple black dress I had desired. But on closer inspection, one could see that Alice (as always) had found a work of art. The fabric was layered in such a way that not only did it needlessly highlight my physical attributes, but that it did so in a classy way. Who knew clothing could present a paradox?

Not only did I look stunning, I looked well over both seven and eighteen. Idly I thought of the youngest werewolves, the ones who were too frightened to talk to me, but who had been prepubescent when the Volturi came to town. Is this how they had felt when they saw their muscled adult bodies staring back at them? Excited, apprehensive and just a little numb?

Esme had abandoned her usual smiling face for one that was positively beaming, shining love like a spotlight on our proceedings. I had a fervent wish that I could one day love like Esme, though my mind was convinced I was incapable of such...simplicity. That sounded condescending. Whole-hearted was better, I suppose, though it failed to convey the ease with which Esme bestowed her love—and it was the ease coupled with the strength of the feeling that I most admired.

And then there was Bella, trying not to cry (or squinting her eyes so I knew she would be crying if it were still possible). "I love you so much," she murmured over and over. "You'll make him so happy. I always wished—everything will be perfect now."

It was the last comment that had Rosalie opening her mouth for the first time since she had entered the room. Nothing came out; she went back to scowling at the world. My birthday did not please her.

When the others cleared out to give me a moment with my mother, Rosalie went out without a word.

Bella's cold hand came to rest on my shoulder. We looked like equals—if I stood, I would be significantly taller. No one would ever mistake us for mother and daughter. I had her eyes—but she had the eyes of a vampire.

"I—" her voice cracked with emotion. "I remember when I first found you existed, my little nudger. I never thought I could love anything as much as your father, but there you were. I thought my heart was full, but it wasn't. It was the greatest feeling in the world, knowing I could love more than I ever thought possible."

"It does sound wonderful," I agreed as Bella kissed my forehead. "What changed your mind? How did you make yourself want what you had never wanted before?"

Bella laughed. "I didn't have to do anything. You were simply too perfect not to love."

"Did you ever imagine Jacob would end up being your son-in-law?"

This time my mother did not laugh. "I always wanted him to be family," she managed. Then, "Alice won't speak to me for decades if we don't fix that flyaway strand before the pictures."

"Do you like the waves?" I asked her, even as she turned towards the door to get help. The not-quite straight, not-quite curly waves. Somewhere in between, just like I was. I couldn't be like Seth. I couldn't find the balance that would let me love both sides equally, effortlessly; but I could craft something new and beautiful out of both and love that instead.

"If you do," Bella smiled. "I'll be right back."

She slipped out of the room to get help, leaving me staring into the mirror. I smiled at myself. The waves were a nice compromise—and they looked good in my now almost entirely reddish hair. I would look nice next to Jacob. Not perfect, perhaps, but nice.

Rosalie must have protested, because it felt like years later when she stormed into the room. "It looks perfect," she spat.

"Don't be mad at me today," I begged. "Please, Rosalie?"

"Don't cry. You'll ruin your make up." But her voice was softer.

"Why do you hate him? He's the only one who loves me as much as you do."

Her face betrayed no movement, as she deliberated whether or not she should answer, or maybe whether or not she could. With her stillness, she could have been a corpse.

"I'm so afraid you'll never be real to him," she admitted. "You'll always just be the girl he won, the girl he can show off. But not...you."

I had expected a petty accusation. I expected her to rant, to rave. I expected Rosalie to be wrong. She loved me far too much for her own good. And yet...I couldn't say she didn't have a point. Not that Jacob's feelings for me were superficial. But he would love me unconditionally, no matter how many strange characteristics I possessed. Not because of them, or despite them, but simply because he was destined to love me. Or were we seeing distinctions where none existed?

She sighed and kissed my (now forever) pale cheek. "You make a beautiful vampire."

"It's a lie, you know." Because that, at least, I could fight. "All this talk of transformation and immobility. It's a lie, a deception. I might be frozen on the outside but inside I'm alive and bleeding. You know that."

The corner of her lips twitched and then—at a glacial pace—her mouth turned up. A smile graced her perfect face. Her topaz eyes began to sparkle. Rosalie put her hands on my shoulder and brushed a stray hair off my face. Rosalie's love was more complicated than anyone's, but it was also the most powerful.

"Come," she beckoned. "You have a party to go to."

The house had been turned into a great hall. I was reasonably sure Alice had knocked down one or two walls but I was touched instead of horrified—at least they hadn't built an entire new house. It was just a hall, one that was currently completely filled.

I hadn't consciously been aware that I knew this many people. There were the hybrids—the females were avoiding Nahuel, who had shown up simply because no one wanted him to. There were the vampires, all on a strict vegetarian diet for the day. No one in the state of Washington was dying for my party. Among those present were the Denali Clan, the Amazons, the Egyptians, and many of the others that I hadn't seen since my first year. Even the Transylvanians had come (I tried to miss how they were eyeing the hybrids, and the way Elmira watched them back; I didn't want to spoil my day).

The presence of vampires should have stopped Alice from inviting my human friends, but it hadn't (that's what the werewolves were for, she said, and besides, our friends wouldn't eat anyone). Charlie and Sue were here, as well as Quil Ateara Sr. The entire Hamilton family had come; Naomi, all of twelve, had corned Edward and was trying to out-nerd him. It was rather priceless. Annie had brought Chris, as well as his friend Jimmy. The two boys looks weirded out, but I think they enjoyed staring at the vampires, anyway.

The pack, under Jacob's obvious leadership, was out in full force today. The Clearwater siblings were the obvious exceptions, though of the other two unimprinted wolves, only Colin was missing. The youngest unimprinted member of the pack, a cheerful boy by the name of Max, had still come and the gamble paid off; he barely gave my sisters a second glace. Sam and Emily and their children, Jared and Kim and their daughter, Paul and Rachel and Will...all the little families that not-so-secretly hated my kind. There were all here (Rachel even gave me a hug), with Jacob at their head.

And he looked good.

Perfect, actually. Tall, regal, content—he made a beautiful picture. So beautiful I couldn't remember why as a child I had always thought he needed Leah by his side. Surely my Jacob was too strong to ever need anybody?

Since half the gathering didn't consume food, Alice had gone for buffet style. But before we could eat, my family had to celebrate me, just a little bit.

Edward couldn't help being embarrassing—and rather highhanded, announcing I was going to Dartmouth for multiple years. He praised my talents so much that there was no way the humans still believed he was my brother. Oh well. The Cullens were leaving Forks with me tomorrow. When I thought the torture was almost over, Alice stood up.

It was worse than hearing another ode to my perfection.

"Nessie is now going to say a few words."

All eyes turned to me.

It would have been nice to have a warning, but I didn't have time to complain about what I didn't have. I frantically searched for words; I started with the simplest.

"Thank you. All of you. For everything. I know that sounds hopelessly deficient but it's all I have. It's the truth. I know I'm the luckiest girl in the world and I know you—" it was such a long list, I didn't even know how to start "—are the reason for this."

My voice caught as I witnessed all their loving faces turned towards me. The next time I came home from school it wouldn't be to the Cullen house in Forks. Even a vampire memory didn't sound up to the task of remembering all the details of this moment, the last we would ever have all together. It was only my mother's brilliant smile that reminded me I had to go on. I had to tell them, now that I had been given this chance.

"I can't thank you enough. For loving me. For saving me. For teasing me and teaching me and scaring me and protecting me...if you want a list, I could tell you, but it's so long I really will be eighteen by the time I finish. Just...thank you. So much. I only hope I can make you proud."

Jacob hugged me as the tears caught up with me. Carlisle thankfully stood up to lead the toasts, saving me from further speaking. I should have trusted Alice. She always knew what was needed, even when she didn't.

I just wished Leah was there.

"That was beautiful, Renesmee," Edward said afterwards, hugging me tightly to his chest.

"Not as good as yours."

"True," he said with a half-crooked grin. "But I've been preparing that speech since you were born." He brushed a lock of hair off my face, tucking the wave gently behind my ear. "I would have been proud of you no matter what, you know. I probably wouldn't have almost cried if there wasn't so much to truly be proud of, but I would have been proud nonetheless. It was a privilege to read your thoughts."

"You've already made me cry once tonight," I whispered. "Please refrain from making it happen again."

He kissed my forehead. "Whatever pleases you. Enjoy your evening." With a sigh, he warned me, "Alice tells me we have to mingle."

And with a shared look, my father and I parted ways in order to do just that.

Zafrina showed me pretty pictures like she had in the olden days; she even made sure they were all rated PG like she had when I was little. Tanya gushed over my dress, while Kate and Garrett regaled me with their adventures from their honeymoons. The Irish coven also told me stories, but I was so entranced by their accent, I wasn't exactly sure what those stories were.

I found Jasper talking in a corner with a couple, a couple who's faces were marked by the same crisscross of scars his were. He introduced them as Peter and Charlotte, and they said they remembered me as an infant.

"It's my birthday, uncle," I explained. "Won't you show me what your life was like before us?"

"No," he repeated, as he always did. But this time he added, "That is my gift to you."

"May you never need to know," Peter told me. Charlotte's grip on her mate's arm tightened.

I was dismissed. It was a gift. Sakhet was hissing at her sister in the corner, ordering her away from the Transylvanians ("they will lose, sister. The Volturi will kill them. And where will I be without you?"). It was the difference between vampires and werewolves, the laughing, ever changing oh-so-human werewolves and the vampires that watched the world sink to new lows over and over again. Too much memory was a curse, not a blessing.

My seven years of memories weren't even large enough to qualify as a drop in comparison to their buckets of memories. It was a gift.

When Rachel thrust Will on me, so she could order her husband to be nice to her brother, I took the child. It was a tiny thing, terrifyingly delicate, passed around among giants. I could create life, naturally and hopefully one day unnaturally, but I knew now that there was no guarantees that I could protect any life I created. Like Will, all children just had to muddle through life as best they could based on their woefully incomplete knowledge of the world. And yet somehow...it was a gift.

Rachel took her son back and I headed to the punch bowl, where I ran into Chris.

"Hey. Great party."

"Thank you. And thank you for coming."

I guess me being Annie's friend trumped me being Frank's ex-girlfriend. I'm sure the unlimited amount of food helped.

"Never seen so much...stuff," he concluded lamely. "Oh, hey. Frank said to say hi. He's sorry he couldn't come."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But he's up at Western right now and the rides killer."

"I'll bet." Taking the plane from New Hampshire to Washington hadn't exactly been fun for me, though it was my party. And I had to make the trip back tomorrow night. "Wait. I thought he was going to the University of Washington."

"That was the plan. But...I actually have no idea. It's smaller—further, but smaller, I guess. He just sort of changed his mind."

"That's great," I said, surprised. Frank had always sounded so sure about his plan for the future, but Western was equally prestigious. Less famous, but a school with a solid reputation. "How's he liking it?"

"He loves it. A lot. I can't get him to shut up about it. He's always on about classes and labs and this chick at the library. It's insane. And then he's got his own place now and he keeps complaining how cooking's a bitch."

"Peanut butter," I suggested.

"He said something about ground beef and broccoli stew."

"Ew. I guess it would be good experimental research."

"I think that's what he's calling it. Boy was always a little crazy. When Brady and I went up there to move him in, he made us move every single piece of furniture at least a hundred times—and he's living in a shoe box."

"It's his first place. Of course he's excited."

So was Chris, if the way he kept talking about Frank's new life was any indication. Of course, he would be excited. His best friend's life was about to take off into crazy unknown directions. It was fascinating.

And the more Chris talked, the heavier the feeling in my chest got. Frank and I had gotten along so well because we were similar—analytical, practical nerds. But Chris was telling me stories that didn't quite fit with how I pictured Frank, which was silly because Frank was eighteen and human. If he wanted something to fit...it could.

I had to find Jacob.

Seven years old, eighteen years, it didn't matter how many years it was. It was far too little time. There was no reason I had to figure out the rest of my life by now. I wanted to grow up and I wanted Jacob happy—but when it came down to it, I wanted to know who Renesmee Cullen was more.

Chris left me and I hurried through the crowd. In this room, surrounded by all these people who loved me, I was hopelessly jealous of a boy whose father hadn't even realized he was off at school. I was jealous and I needed to stop that feeling. Where in the world was Jacob?

I looked everywhere. It had always been easy to find Jacob, as he was the tallest one in the crowd, but the other werewolves weren't much shorter and they just served to confuse me. The more I looked, the less I could find him. Finally, it occurred to me—I hadn't checked outside.

I had barely slipped out the front door when I heard Jacob.

"I'm going to kill him!"

"If it makes you feel better," my grandfather chided, "He might die on the operating table."

"You won't let that happen." It was a striking show of faith. I guess Jacob had learned to trust my family after all. "I have to yell at him first."

"Who are you going to yell at?" I inquired, leaving me perch by the door and coming to where Jacob and Carlisle were standing, by Carlisle's car.

"You," Jacob said. "Why aren't you at your party?"

"I need to talk to you. What are you two doing out here?"

"I'm sorry, Nessie," Carlisle said, taking my hand. "There's an emergency at the hospital. I have to go. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Of course. Why is Jacob with you?"

"Head of the tribe. I'm in charge no matter how stupid..." Jacob was regarding me strangely. "Don't worry about it. Your grandfather's the best and Leah's going to meet him there, supervise. Come on. I have to talk to you, too."

He took my hand, pulling me away before I could get my thoughts in order. Carlisle was a good doctor, to be sure, but he wasn't the only one in Forks and—

"You want to sit down?" Jacob asked me, hand buried deep in his pocket. A pocket where a velvet box resided.

Oh god. I had forgotten about the proposal.

"Jacob, I—I need to talk to you."

"You said that, already," he teased. Taking a step closer, he kept that unreadable expression on his face. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know," I realized miserably. Whatever I needed, Jacob had always been able to give me. Now that I couldn't quite breathe properly thinking of how young and incomplete I was, I needed him to remind me how I could overcome that feeling. Too bad I didn't know how to ask him to do that. "I just need to talk to you."

"We'll talk," he promised. His arms came up to take me by the elbows. "There's just one thing I want to try first, okay?"

My eyes went wide, but before I could answer, Jacob's lips were on mine.

Hard and hot and...

Perfect.

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TBC...


	54. Chapter 54

A/N: Aw. So the past few days I've been basking in the knowledge that the people reading this story are all kinds of awesome. Just in case any of you were confused as to your own awesomeness...here's me reminding you. And thank you. It is with great pleasure I bring you the fourth last chapter. I hope you like it.

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Chapter 54

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Kissing Jacob was quite unlike kissing Frank, and not just because one's temperature was decidedly greater than the other's. Hesitant was not in Jacob's vocabulary. Where Frank had always been too frightened by his own insecurities to be anything but utterly gentle, Jacob was content to push forward, heedless to all. It made for a much different experience. Better...?

Maybe that's why I wasn't conscious of the time passing, when Jacob's lips were on mine. I was aware only of him, pressing against me, the way kissing him felt like I was complete, the way I felt like I was holding all the answers to the universe in the palm of my hand.

And then Jacob pulled away and I had no idea how long I had been kissing him. I didn't even know where I was.

It wasn't until his thumb came up to brush the tears off my cheek that I was aware that I had started to cry.

Jacob gave a quiet chuckle. "Well, it's taken me almost ten years, but I think I've finally figured out when a woman doesn't want to be kissing me."

"I..."

"It's okay, Nessie," he said. I let myself believe him. "It's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay. The two of us are always going to be okay."

"There's supposed to be..." Magic? I sounded like the child I still was. Placing my hand over my heart, I tried to find what was missing. "I still feel the same."

"Still feel like not kissing me?"

"Yes. I mean, I...I still love you like before and not...not like I need to. Why is that?"

"Though some have called my lips magic, they aren't actually. One touch won't change the way you feel about me."

There was that word again. Surrounded by vampires and werewolves and the obvious proof of fate on such a daily basis, had it been an error to trust in a perfect, magical resolution to my relationship with Jacob? Evidently. Magic had done wondrous things for the people I loved—but it was not the reason I loved them. Why had I thought Jacob would be any different?

Because I needed it to be. What was I going to do now that magic wasn't happening?

"Frank went to Western."

"Frank?"

I ignored the way Jacob's voice rose three octaves. His jealously was too ridiculous to contemplate. "Chris told me. Frank always talked about going to U-Dub, but apparently he got a scholarship...he changed his mind."

"Okay."

"I love you," I told Jacob. The boy who had imprinted on me, the werewolf who raised me, the man who loved me more than anyone ever would...I loved him. But not that way. Wasn't I a cliché? If I was destined to love him, it wasn't at this moment. "But I...I can't do this. I'm sorry."

"Because of...Frank?"

This time I really did giggle. "No. Because of me. I want to go to school. Forever, if they'll let me. And I want to change the world. I want to create life and bring back the dead and change the way people think about things that go bump in the night. I want...I don't even know what I want. I'm eighteen. I have no idea what I want."

"You just don't want me."

"That's not true either." As usual, it just came out. Seth would have been so annoyed, but I couldn't stop wanting to take care of Jacob, even now. I would stop, however, because I knew he deserved a little more honesty and a little less patronization. "I just don't want you like that. Not—not now. I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay, Nessie. I sort of thought this would happen. Feelings have never been my thing. Now if you wanted me to beat something up for you..."

"Don't," I chided him gently. "You've been so, so much more than a pair of hands to piece me back together. You know that, right? What you've done for me is nothing short of incredible. You've been...everything to me."

"Except what you wanted."

Sadness covered his features, but it was not a heavy veil. I couldn't have handled him being too distraught and so he wasn't. He was upset, yes, but it was clear he would survive. Survive all alone if the pack was right about imprinting. How selfish was I? But even as I admonished myself, I knew I could never go through with it. Not when the dazzling transformation of my feelings had failed to happen. It was the truth. I didn't want Jacob, who had named me, who had (accidentally) taught me my first cuss words, who coddled me, who gave me promise rings, who showed me the outside world the way a guardian should. I didn't want him like that.

"You've always been...there for me."

"And it's a bad thing?"

Strangely enough, yes. A hundred times yes. I wanted to throw myself off a cliff—and I wanted to do it without my friendly neighborhood werewolf coming to rescue me if the water got too rough. My whole life I had an army of people protecting me. I loved them all. But I couldn't be me if I always had to think about them, at least not until I knew myself well enough to resist.

"I'm tired of you waiting around for me," was all I said. "I love you too much to want you to just be an extension of me. You're so much more than that. And I'm...I could be so much more than an extension of you. I think."

"You think?" Jacob laughed. "Come on, Nessie. You could be...you are going to be one hell of a woman."

"One day."

"Yeah," he said softly. "One day. Hell of a day."

"Thank you."

"No matter what," he insisted, "The two of us are always going to be okay."

"I know."

That, at least, I was still certain of. We would love each other until our dying breaths. Maybe one day it would even be the sort of love that would let...no. Who knew how many more years it would take for me to be in the position to love him? And if I learned anything from today, it was that feelings did not materialize even with they had been predicted to do so. But there had to be some way...

And I was right back at the beginning. How did I possibly make Jacob happy when I wasn't ready to assume that responsibility? Maybe I should gather up my mother and Leah, and the three of us could brainstorm. Speaking of Leah...

"I'm sort of glad you didn't let Leah come tonight. I thought she would have insisted, but it would have been needlessly cruel."

"As if I could ever stop her from doing something she didn't want to," he growled.

"Oh. Well...I'm glad she decided not to come, then."

"She _was_ going to come later. Only..." Jacob sighed. Then he narrowed his eyes. "Haven't you wondered why the Clearwaters aren't here?"

"Because even Leah's not that much of a masochist and Seth already told me he wasn't coming. So I could invite the hybrids." The falsehood would have been more convincing, if I had managed to keep the blush off my face. But all my blood went cold when I finally had three seconds to allow my prodigious brain to work. "Why aren't the Clearwaters here? Who is Carlisle operating on?"

"Operating might be a strong word, but it's all Seth's damn fault," Jacob announced. "You just don't hit girls."

"What?"

"Sure, Leah's annoying and she totally overacted—who stabs their brother with a bread knife?—but the kid brought it on himself. Yes, everyone _wants_ to break Leah's jaw, but no one's stupid enough to do it."

"Stab—bread—_he broke her jaw_?"

"Left-handed," he said. I glared at Jacob then, because he shouldn't have sounded proud, of all things. "It's impressive. Imagine if she hadn't broken his good arm first."

"Good—what? Could you please tell me this story in some semblance of order?"

"Not really. Leah was half-hysterical when she called. Don't worry though," he hurried to add, "Carlisle will fix Seth up fine."

"What happened? Why is Seth even home—" Dumb question. Someone had to stay with Leah this weekend, even if he was planning on avoiding me. "Just start from the beginning."

"I don't know what started it." But he was looking me in a way that suggested he now had a few ideas. "From what I could tell, Seth said something that pissed Leah off, which...he probably just said something about the garage door being stuck. So she broke his nose—and he pushed her. He never...he doesn't retaliate. I think she broke his arm because she just didn't know what else do to. Course, she must have ran her mouth at the same time, because he broke her jaw. So she stabbed him. And then—"

"There's more?"

"It gets worse," Jacob promised with a dark look. "Because they're both morons. So once Leah puts a knife into her brother, don't the two of them pick that moment to make up? How stupid can you get? They wait until Seth has an eight inch knife in his side, and then they start apologizing to each other."

"So they're okay?"

"Spiritually," Jacob spat. "Unfortunately, Seth's body decided to heal him up. With the knife still in him."

I felt a little sick. The werewolves healed far too fast—it was too easy to picture the blade with the undulating edge embedded in Seth's skin, his body healing itself over it, permanently keeping it there. Carlisle couldn't pull it out until he was sure it wasn't permanently attached to any internal organs.

"Don't worry, Nessie," Jacob hurried to reassure me. "Carlisle's the best and if worse comes to worse they'll just drug him up and pull it out the old fashion way. Even werewolves like morphine. It's good stuff."

"That was not nearly as reassuring as you wanted it to be."

He led me over to the porch step, so I could have something to sit on. It was difficult, trying to estimate the extent of the damage without knowing exactly what angle and with how much force Leah had used...and how long it had taken them before they had thought to call Carlisle.

"Carlisle's going to need help," I announced. Even if my medical credentials weren't woefully lacking, I lacked practical experience. Besides, Seth required the best. "We should send my father to the hospital. Or would you prefer to accompany him?"

"Seriously? If I had to interrupt my life every time someone in the pack got themselves sent to the hospital, I would never leave that place. They'll be fine."

"That's completely unsympathetic of you."

"They're my pack," he hissed quietly. "I know how to take care of the them. The last thing Seth needs right now is to have to answer to me, or placate more of your overbearing family when he should be concentrating on conserving his strength."

We sat there in silence for a moment.

"I've never heard you talk that way about them."

Never before had he sounded so serious when he disparaged my family.

"Seth isn't usually spurting blood all over the place with only a vampire and his absolutely idiotic sister for comfort." Jacob let out a stream of curses, each less flattering than the one before. "What the hell was she thinking?"

"I'm going to get Edward."

"You can't. It'll be too obvious he's gone. Carlisle said he could handle it."

"And what if he can't?"

"We've survived worse, Nessie. Seth'll be fine. Besides...if you go in there...Sue might find out."

Finally, he was using logic I could understand. We were stuck.

Jacob sighed. "I shouldn't have told you. You wouldn't believe the stuff we can live through."

"Like what?"

So he told me. He only did it to distract me, or maybe it was finally getting through his thick skull that I was eighteen, because these were definitely not the sort of stories he usually told me. For the first time ever, he regaled me with tales from the fight against Victoria's newborn army. His version contained a lot more blood than the official Cullen tale, as he went into great detail informing me how he had been close to becoming a pancake on that occasion.

He also told me of a the time Paul's lack of construction skills brought part of a building down on his head _and_ even left in some of the very creative insults Paul had come up when the pack had held him down in order to reset his bones—it also partially explained why Sue was pushing for her son to learn about human anatomy. Then there was the story about Quil and Embry loose in Seattle, trying to make a quick buck and accidentally 'pissing off these wannabe Triads' who eventually ended up impaling them together. Jacob assured me it had been hysterical, even though he was vague about how they had separated the two.

"When did all that happen?"

I didn't manage to keep the horror from my voice. Jacob suddenly looked much less amused and much more embarrassed. "Never mind," he sighed. "Ignore me. Sorry."

I was saved from answering by the squeal of tires. Both of us turned and—seeing the slightly beaten up Rabbit coming down the driveway—hurried to meet it. I wasn't sure how Leah managed to turn off the car and get out of it that quickly, but she did. Then she just stood in front of the door and fiddled with her keys.

"Nice crazy eyes, Leah," Jacob said, gently.

The way she threw herself at him was far less gentle.

Head buried against his chest, she didn't even notice I was there, just gave a half-sob and tried to stop shaking. Jacob didn't take the time to berate her, just held her, while I tried not to notice the blood that was all over her white shirt. Never had blood been so repulsive.

"He's going to be fine, Leah." How Jacob knew this was a mystery, though I suppose she wouldn't have left Seth's side if he had still been in danger. "What are you doing here?"

"I have to talk to the kid," she said to his chest, still sounding distracted. "I have to...Seth's out cold. Carlisle...that was my baby brother and...I've never seen so much blood...I don't know how the doc did it. He just...did you tell Mom?"

"I like both of you alive, thanks."

"I deserve—"

"Seth would be pissed if I let you get killed. Even if...you going to tell me what happened?"

"I don't even know," she half-laughed. I looked around, trying to find away to slip out of there without alerting them to my presence. This was a private moment, even if I couldn't block out her voice. "We were arguing over the pizza and then we were arguing over me going to the party and then somehow we were arguing about your little girlfriend and the vampires. I—it's my fault."

"Obviously."

"Ass," she said, but a hint of humor crept into her voice. "I didn't mean it when I said we never should have let the Cullens stay in the first place. He usually knows...and I never said it was Dad's fault...I don't know what happened. But then we were arguing about Dad and..."

Jacob cursed. I guess he could already picture the ensuing fight.

"Yeah," Leah sighed. "I think he made me cry. But I couldn't let this be the first fight he won against me. I mean—"

The gravel under my foot wasn't supposed to sound like a firecracker going off, but in the relatively quiet outdoors, it didn't have much of a choice. I froze, trying to spot a bush I could conveniently throw myself behind, but unfortunately there was no camouflage. I was completely exposed when Leah turned to find the source of the noise.

"Hi," I muttered. "I was just—"

"I didn't mean you had to marry him," Leah burst out. Already, she had pushed past Jacob, coming to stop so close in front of me for a second I was reminded of the hybrids. "I didn't mean you had to do anything at all, especially if you didn't want to. And I never meant he needed you above and beyond everything. I just—I was yapping. I do that. It's a dog thing."

"You never made me do anything I didn't want to do. Well, okay, you made me do lots of things I didn't want to do, but nothing that wasn't good for me in the end."

"But if you are getting married for any reason that remotely relates to me, then you have to stop. Because I don't want you to get married to him."

It was only a little bit of a lie, because if I didn't marry him she knew they'd just go back to the oh-so-comfortable way they never could stay.

"Not if you don't want to," she added.

And that was the complete and utter honest to goodness truth.

"If you would wait one second, Leah," Jacob said from behind her, "We could tell you Nessie and I already decided that this whole engagement thing is for people much more mature than we are."

She didn't turn to look at him, just studied me some more. "You sure?"

"No." I couldn't help laughing. "That's part of why we aren't going to go through with it."

"Nessie..." But whatever she wanted to say, she couldn't find the words. So she did something even better. She hugged me, tightly, doing what the werewolves did best—through strength and heat, she told me everything she couldn't say out loud. She loved me. She was sorry. And if I ever did anything that stupid again...

"So are we blaming Leah for saying what she shouldn't? Or Nessie for taking it way out of context?" Jacob asked. "Just to clear things up."

The two of us snorted in unison, and Leah pulled away, just a little bit. I let my head rest on her shoulder as she informed Jacob: "What are you talking about, Jake? This is so clearly all your fault it's not funny."

"My fault? How did that one happen?"

We looked at each other, and rolled our eyes. Loving Jacob really was a tiring endeavor. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, looking a little scared of the two women he just kept _needing_.

"Stop looking at me like that and get in the car," he sighed. "The two of you are so evil."

"But there's a party going on. _My _party."

"We'll be back fast enough. They won't even miss us."

"Where are we going?" I asked, following his instructions.

Leah told me, "It's a surprise."

Not that she would know any better than I what Jacob had planned—or maybe she did. They were a pack, after all. How else to explain how she took off her blood-soaked shirt behind his back, assuming he would have stripped off his and handed it to her, without even making eye contact? But that's what they did, neither one looking at the other as I watched from the back seat of the car as Leah got rid of that awful shirt before slipping in.

We talked as we drove along the beach, not of anything important really, just joking about the party and about the guests in the murky twilight. Leah loved mocking my father's speech, though she expressed great disappointment my mother had not bothered with one of her own, at which point Jacob threatened to kick her out of the car.

Rather like old times. It was sort of sweet.

We even ended up on First Beach.

"Why are we here?" I asked, climbing out of the car. This outfit was not designed for beachwear; Jacob may have been shirtless but he was still wearing dress pants and I was in high heels.

"Not much else in La Push," Jacob grinned.

Leah had already kicked off her shoes and was dipping her toes into the water. The wind was much stronger here than it had been at the house, and it was catching even her short hair, pulling it this way and that. But she gave a smile and beckoned me to come.

"I still don't get it."

And then Jacob grabbed me around the waist, lifting me up, and it suddenly dawned on me there wasn't much to get. It was probably the last day we would spend together in a very long while. Seth was fine (drugged up, but fine). The party wouldn't notice we were gone just yet. We should celebrate.

"Don't throw me in the water! Not in the water!"

Leah decided that she had been close enough to a nervous breakdown for long enough, because she chose that moment to tackle him from behind. While it saved me from being thrown into the Pacific Ocean, it didn't stop the sand from coming up very quickly towards my one of a kind dress.

"Her dress!"

Jacob's hands wrapped around my waist, saving me from ruining month's of Alice's hard work. If my knee had been a few inches to the left, it would have ensured Jacob never had children, but we managed to avoid that calamity as well.

"Ow," I complained. "I think your hip bruised my knee."

"What's that?" Leah asked, curiously reaching inside his pocket, even as Jacob helped me right myself. By then Leah already had the satin box in her hand. For a moment all three of us were quiet, then Leah grinned at me. "Hey, kid? You wanna marry me?"

"Shut up," I told her. Jacob's appreciative look was going to inspire me to kill him. "You're not funny."

"Yes I am. Hey!"

But Jacob took no notice of her, just snatched the box from her hand and tossed it to me. "Wanna see it?" he asked as he stood, pulling Leah up right along with him. "Alice said it was...something."

It didn't seem like such a good idea, but they looked at me so expectantly I couldn't help glancing down at the satin box. It was quite large, too big to fit comfortably in my hand. Was the ring inside that huge, something garish and unseemly, the first expensive looking ring he could find, just so he could leave quickly?

No.

It was...not what I had imagined. Not what I had feared, but it did not entrance me the way it should have. It was beautiful, of course, with a simple, thin, golden band, and a few perfectly placed diamonds. It seemed a bit of a waste that it looked a little plain even though the shine of the jewels told my knowledgeable eye this was not cheap jewellery; but there was no denying that the ring, in its simplicity, achieved the sort of elegance and beauty...that my mother loved.

I forced a smile.

"You can't afford this."

The werewolves laughed; Jacob dug his hands in his pocket and winked at me.

"Where do you think the Veyron went?"

"You sold the car for my ring?"

He shrugged while Leah rolled her eyes: "He wouldn't let us keep the car anyway. Might as well spend all your money on you. Well, half of it. The school needed some help."

"I'm glad it helped."

"I don't think it's all that great, to be honest," Leah said. "Too boring. I told you to take me with you, Jake. Or at least one of the guys. Even Paul has better taste than you."

Jacob put her in an effortless headlock. With her shouting under his arm, he asked, "So what do you want to do with it?"

I don't know what came over me. Perhaps it was the wind on my skin, bringing sand and dirt against the impenetrable barrier that was now me, or perhaps it was the birds, flying free overhead, or perhaps it was the water, the sounds of it crashing and breaking that still somehow sounded soothing. Or perhaps it was just Jacob and Leah's latest demonstration of senseless violence.

Taking the ring out of the box, I handed the empty container to Jacob.

"Want to see which one of us can throw farther?"

Jacob blinked, letting his hold on Leah slacken. The female werewolf was also surprised, though she didn't let it throw her off balance, just straightened up and watched him carefully. It took only a second for Jacob's face to break into a familiar smirk.

"You're on."

We lined up on the beach, side by side. Leah was the unofficial umpire, telling Jacob to back up to where I was and to stop cheating. It was on her signal that we brought our arms back and released, letting the ring and its box fly into the ocean. I had a braided ring at home that meant more, anyway.

The diamond flew up, high above the earth against the black velvet backdrop, propelled by all that vampire strength had to offer, appearing for an instant to be just another star in the sky. And then it was falling, tumbling towards the water, entering the ocean with a tiny splash.

At least ten yards closer to the shore than the box.

"I _knew_ Seth was holding back._"_

As I stared wide-eyed at Jacob, Leah just hit him in the arm. "Oh grow up."

"Never," he promised.

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TBC...


	55. Chapter 55

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Chapter 55

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The first thing I noticed as I pulled into the Clearwater's driveway was the truck overflowing with an assortment of everyday household items parked out on the road. The second was that I was going to hit Seth with a Ferrari if I didn't step on the breaks soon.

I stepped on the breaks.

"Twice in one weekend my life has flashed before my eyes," he sighed as I got out of the car. "If there was ever a sign that I should leave town..."

"Sorry. It looks like you're almost done packing up your stuff. I'm impressed you got it all in there."

That he had succeeded in securing all of his belongings was a generous observation. The truck looked like it was about to explode—the couch on the back didn't seem to like company. How he had managed to wrangle that from his sister and Jacob, I didn't know. I suppose they both still must have felt bad about yesterday's visit to the hospital.

Seth rolled his eyes. "I've been at it all morning. I swear, there ought to be a law that you have to give someone twenty-four hours before you evict them from their own house."

"There is. Though I point out you haven't technically lived here in almost a year. And you probably had more of your stuff at Charlie's house, anyway."

"Actually, I found most of my junk at Quil's." When my eyebrow went up, he shrugged. "I don't know either. At least I'm almost done."

"Why isn't Leah helping you?"

"She offered but....well, she brought me breakfast in bed this morning. It kind of freaked me out. So I said we were even and she said I could load up all my crap myself. I've just got the suitcase and then I'm done." He glanced up at the lone container left in the garage, then back at me. "I was actually going to head up to your house after, say goodbye to everyone."

I wandered up the driveway, suddenly not liking just how open the whole neighbourhood was. He followed, possibly to grab the suitcase, as I explained: "You're too late. No one's there. They cleaned up before I even woke up this morning. I just got back from driving them to the airport."

There would be no more Cullens in Forks, even if my family wasn't planning on selling the house. Someone would stop buy every decade or so and make sure it didn't fall into disrepair. Maybe in another century or so they could come back. Or not. They would see what happened; my family hadn't been too upset at going off to more interesting, if sunnier, places.

And myself? I was still trying to figure out how I felt about leaving the only home I had ever known. Being in Dartmouth the past week, I simply felt like I was on vacation. Now...now it would be home. After I finished talking to Seth and Leah, I was going to find a tub of ice cream, some country music, and cry for a good long while.

Then in six hours Jacob would drive me to the airport and I wouldn't see Forks or La Push for a long, long time.

"They're gone?" He gave a rather sad smile, one that just reinforced his resemblance to a puppy. "After all those fights, it's kind of anticlimactic having them just sneak out like that. Sam might even shed a tear."

"Edward wanted to beat you to Seattle. He misses you—he's going to buy you some electronic thing, make it up to you." I stopped examining Jacob's tools along the wall long enough to look up at Seth, who was now positively beaming. "Please act surprised?"

"Seriously? That's awesome. Won't your Mom mind?"

"He has eternity to make it up to her." The mostly empty garage felt like a tomb. I sighed: "I can't believe you all won't be here."

"I can't believe they decided we were moving in twenty minutes."

It wasn't like they had much of a choice. Last night had been chaotic at best. When the three of us had gotten back from the beach, we had arrived to find Sakhet and Embry fighting on the front lawn. The eldest half-vampire had not approved of her sister's care—Embry did not care for the thought of Shelia's departure. That Jacob and Leah had come up with a solution so quickly had been nothing short of miraculous.

Shelia was going to stay in La Push, with Embry—and Jacob. And Elmira. This way she could get the care she needed, and someone would always be able to physically restrain her, if necessary. As part of the deal, Elmira had agreed to live under virtual house arrest, so the werewolves could guarantee she wouldn't hurt anyone. Jacob would also be able to stop his friend from killing the sister-in-law from hell.

And Jacob wouldn't be living with Leah anymore.

I guess they finally realized being attached at the hip all the time was not good for the psyche. Since Leah didn't need the house all to herself, she was going to get a small place of her own. And they were all going to move out of the house. Today. I never understood the werewolves.

"Sakhet didn't think Embry was strong enough," was all I said. "If Jacob hadn't offered to help out, she might not have left without Shelia."

"It was nice of the other one to stay behind. Must be a bit of a romantic."

It was the kindest interpretation of events I had heard yet, but though his voice was teasing, his words stung. There was another reason Leah had insisted Elmira couldn't wander though La Push unless accompanied by an Alpha or Beta wolf.

"You should meet her. She might not be so bad since you are not the one responsible for killing her father."

His footsteps echoed on the concrete floor, the light steps somehow deafening in the confined space. All the tools hanging on the wall were making me crazy, the shiny metal reflecting too many half-glimpsed images at me. That was the reason my nerves were on edge. Behind me, Seth came to a stop, his voice soft.

"I'd rather not."

"I came over to talk to Leah," I told the wall. Was I really seven years old? I forced myself to turn around, even though Seth was just as close as I had anticipated. Leaning back against the garage wall gave me more space, stopping the heat of him from frying my brain anymore than it already had. "But I kind of wanted to talk to you, too."

"Yeah, I did too. Talk to you, not me. I can talk to me anytime. I wanted to talk to you." He winced. "Blame it on the drugs. Thank your grandfather for those, by the way."

Now that he had reminded me, my panic from last night came back full force. "How are you doing? Were there any complications? Is the wound clean? Did it scar? Are—?

"You want to see it, don't you?"

My expectant look was answer enough. Without protest, he tried pulling down the collar of his shirt and when that didn't work, just pulled the top off. Keeping my eyes firmly on his most recent war wound, I took in the damage. It was worse than I thought. The knife must have embedded itself right between the deltoid and the pectoralis major. Leah had luckily missed the nearby arteries, but it was clear that Carlisle's job still hadn't been easy. The scar tissue attested to that. The thick, indented mark was unlike anything I had ever seen on the werewolves.

"How long was the knife?" I asked, as I pushed at his shoulder, lifting his arm, forcing it to move in circles trying to make sure his mobility hadn't been affected. My hands travelled over the soft bronze skin, prodding, massaging, relieved and something else that the hard muscle moved fluidly underneath my touch. Part of me realized he wouldn't have been able to load up the car if it was still damaged, but I ignored the thought, eager to see for myself.

"Only about two or three inches went in. Leah stopped pretty quick."

That didn't prevent me from moving around, checking to make sure there was no exit wound. There was nothing on his back but smooth skin, but it made me feel better. Or maybe it was being so close.

"I'm glad you're all right."

"Me too." He glanced down, but didn't say anything about the way I was obsessively checking the scar on his chest. I wasn't fooling anyone. It would have been impossible for him to miss how my breasts were lightly pressed against him.

"I wanted to talk to you." Why was I whispering? It served its purpose; Seth had to lean forward to hear me. "But there's something I have to do first..."

I went up on my toes, bringing our faces far too close together, though there was that last bit of distance because I still wasn't quite sure if this was acceptable or not. Not to anyone else, but to Seth, who had so much more to lose. My heart was beating wildly, more with anticipation then fear—he hesitated for only a second. He lowered his head. My lips found his.

It was a simple and sweet kiss, a whisper of a promise of something wonderful. It was the two of us, alone and free from the obligations we put on ourselves. It was a heady feeling. A large hand came to rest on my waist and I wrapped my arms around his neck. My fingers brushed the hair on the back of his head, softer than feathers...

Simplicity was overrated.

The brief taste I had gotten wasn't enough, so I deepened the kiss, searching for something I was still afraid to put a name to. His hands on my body, somehow nowhere near where I needed them to be, pulled me closer, while he stepped forward, almost as if we were supposed to be able to defy physics and share the same physical space. Maybe we could. Maybe that's how I could feel him pressed against me and yet somewhere inside me as well.

The cold of the garage wall against my back was in stark contrast to the heat coming off Seth. I had an easier time believing he was kissing my neck than the soft breathy moans were coming from me. But it was the only way I seemed able breath when his hand seemed to be burning through the material on the back of my jeans.

"Seth..."

I was acting shamelessly, but I didn't care, just glad when his mouth was back on mine. I was getting a little dizzy (lack of oxygen? Oxygen was also overrated) but it didn't really matter so long as he kept kissing me like this, echoing a primordial ritual even I instinctively understood. His lips were supposed to be demanding against mine, mirroring the way mine were assaulting his. My body was supposed to feel like defying physics was not only possibly but mandatory for survival. And as I drowned while standing on dry land, his hand was threading through my hair, tugging my head back not-quite gently to give him better access while one of my hands curled into belt loops of his jeans.

He said my name, but it came out as more of a groan. "Leah's still home," he whispered against my ear.

"So?"

I wouldn't mind if he continued as if Leah (and the rest of the world) was far, far away from us.

The pressure against me receded a little; the kisses became gentle. There was a whole wide world out there and the garage door was open. Though I was a little disappointed (why? I didn't want to think about why) I still enjoyed the quiet game we were playing now. Butterfly kisses, I thought to myself. I was having the strangest visions of butterflies and ponies and rainbows.

Because there were—as impossible and irrational and as utterly absurd as it sounded—butterflies in my stomach.

"Um..." I giggled quietly, breathlessly. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah..." He frowned, though one hand didn't move from my rear and the other kept playing with my hair. "Uh...why don't...you can go first. I don't really remember what I had planned to say."

I reluctantly removed my arms from around his neck, and he unfortunately took that as a sign to step back. He even took a moment to pick his shirt off the floor. While I waited for him to shrug it on, I took the opportunity to settle myself on the workbench nearby. Seating seemed to convey the casual attitude that I needed to project at a moment like this.

"I gave a speech at my birthday, thanking everybody. I came here to extend the sentiment to you. For being my friend all this time." Fighting the blush on my cheek, I made myself add, "And to see what it was like. To kiss you. I've kind of wanted to do that since I was five."

Leaning beside me, his hand casually playing with the hole in my jeans, Seth did what few people did when I spoke—he laughed, his whole body shaking against mine until I was laughing too. Not because it was particularly funny, but because it seemed like the best way to say goodbye.

Finally, he said: "It's the greatest thing how all this is normal with you. That's basically what I wanted to tell you. I'm going to miss you. Call me sometimes. Most people I want to keep in touch with read my mind, so I might not be very good at regular keeping in touch, but I figure you would be."

"I've never had to before, but I think you're right. I'll be good at it."

"Of course." It was time for him to go. He was standing up, hands on my hips to help me down. "This could be fun. The long distance bills won't be, but talking to you without fearing for my life will be great."

"I'm curious," I asked, putting my arms around his neck again. He wasn't stopping me and I liked doing it too much to make myself stop. "What exactly haven't you told me because you were afraid for your life?"

"There's plenty I haven't told you." There was a hint of a smirk on his face, so I had to tease him back.

"Please. I know everything."

"What's my favourite colour?"

"Seth!"

The two of us ended up on opposite sides of the garage. I had to shove my hands in my mouth to stop from laughing, as Seth shot me a warning look that was ruined by his own aborted laughter. Then he went to greet his sister, whose presence saved me from being unable to answer his question.

"Some other utensil you wanna stab me with?"

"Not funny. Were—?" She pulled up. "Hey, Nessie. I didn't hear you pull up. Apparently, cleaning destroys your eardrums."

"I told you to ask Jake to help you."

"If the Council weren't bitches, he would be here, and yes, he would be cleaning. But they are, so he is gone, so I am stuck trying to make it look like less of a pigsty in there. Do you have any idea how much we shed?"

"I try not to think about it." He glanced over at me, standing by his lone suitcase. "I was actually just about to head off..."

"I came over to see you," I told her, and she nodded absently.

All she said: "I can walk you to the car."

As sister and brother said goodbye, I tried every way I could not to listen in. Vampire hearing couldn't be helped, but humming under my breath worked a little bit, and anyway I managed to distract myself until Leah called me over to say goodbye.

"Knuckles?" I offered, not exactly inclined to hug Seth in front of his sister. Not that it stopped him. He completed the old ritual, but this time he finished by wrapping his arms around me. How long was appropriate? Not the length he stayed. It was far too soon when he was pulling away from me, leaving me shivering at how cool it had suddenly gotten.

"Have fun at school. It'll go by before you know it, so enjoy it while you can."

"I'll keep that in mind." He was leaving, but I halted his departure, curiosity preventing me from letting go. "Seth," I called, "What's your favourite colour?"

He stopped right by the car door and the smile he gave me seemed to travel right to my very core, causing something to combust in my belly, fire spreading upwards, coating my face in a bright red blush as his eyes bore into mine. His shoulder went up, an easy, carefree gesture, and as he shrugged he told me, "Red."

"Love the skin you're in," Leah sighed from behind me as I used my hair to shield my face. Seth nodded, but his dark eyes were still on me—then he got in the car and was gone.

The smile on my face was ridiculous. I was going to pull one of my facial muscles.

"What?" I asked. Having Leah stare at me like that, confused, surprised and disbelieving, blinking like she must have the first time she had seen a werewolf, managed to calm the hammering in my chest.

"Were you...?" She bit her lip, almost embarrassed to be asking. "Were you _flirting_ with my brother?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Leah," I said, turning around to walk up the porch steps. My eyes may have lingered on the road, but for symbolic reasons. "Now come on, I don't have much time. I still have to pack."

She hesitated, but after shaking her head (and Seth would thankfully live to see another day), she followed me into the house.

"Just where do you think you're going?" she called.

It was a small house. When I got to my destination, she would be able to find me. Or she could just follow me up the stairs, and stand, arms crossed over her chest, in the doorway, as I flopped rather ungracefully on her bed.

"I need a favour," I stated, as I stretched out my back. Her bed was rather uncomfortable, but my back needed it. Last night hadn't been the most restful sleep of my life—it had taken me until early this morning to come up with what could very well turn out to be a useless solution. Hopefully not, but it could be.

"And I need a million bucks," Leah said as she went back to packing up her clothes.

"Wasn't that what you received for the car?"

"That was for the town." She rolled her eyes, but finally said, "What do you want?"

"I think you were wrong," I began. "I know it sounds medieval and demeaning and possibly even un-American, but I also think it's wishful thinking to believe otherwise. Jacob...Jacob belongs to me. He is mine. I would prefer if you had been correct, if he was his own, but I don't think you were."

"I might have agreed to anger management courses, kid, but I am still not afraid of shoving my hair brush up your—"

"Could you let me finish before you threaten me with bodily harm?" I interrupted. "Please? This is merely an observation, however unpleasant you may find it. It's not something I want, or approve of, or enjoy...but I'm fairly certain it is a fact. And I believe you would be to if you weren't so instinctively repulsed by it."

Leah threw the brush at me, but without any real force. Hadn't that always been the problem? Jacob was fine with me having outside interests, and incapable of having any of his own.

"Agreeing you're right about this better not be the favour."

"It's not." Closing my eyes, I said, "If he's mine...I don't want him anymore. Fate better have a return policy, because I'm giving him back. As wonderful as having the perfect future husband was, I...I don't want him. So, that's that."

Hear that Fate? Hear that Destiny? Listen up Providence and Fortune and Bella and Karma and whatever else could possibly be responsible: Renesmee Carlisle Cullen, the half-vampire with the pretentious name, does not want Jacob Black, leader of the Quileute werewolves. Ever. For anything. So you might as well let him go. Release him from his bonds. Let the ties be severed. Anything, so he could finally be free.

Forcing myself to sit up, I continued: "Which means I need you to make sure he doesn't try and contact me. Recruit Embry and Quil and whomever else you need, only make sure he stays far away from me. Hopefully, the fact this is what I want will help him. And maybe one day I won't be the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up in the morning. And maybe, one day..."

Maybe one day he would look at me and see a girl and not the center of the universe.

"You serious?" Leah asked, dropping down to sit on the bed beside me. "It just might kill him."

"That which does not kill us makes us stronger. Whatever problems I have with Nietzsche's philosophy, I think he was right about that. Like I think I'm right about this. It won't kill him, so maybe it'll force him to forget. He can't care for me above all else if I won't let him."

"I...I never thought of that."

"When Jacob was explaining imprinting to my mother, he said the girls had a choice. Even though he would be everything, my 'perfect match' who I wouldn't want to resist, he still said I could. He was young then, and in love with her and desperate to defend his friend, but...don't you think he was right? Can't I make us forget each other, if I want?"

For a long while it was quiet, Leah frowning, brain whirling, trying to remember conversations she hadn't stolen from Jacob like I had. Did the werewolves dwell on imprinting or phasing or even the shedding that happened to them? It was part of the stories, so why should they bother? But I was not part of their stories. I couldn't say them, and I wasn't even inclined to learn, mostly because I was sick and tired of being drafted into them.

"Maybe," she sighed at last. "I don't know. We always just assumed...how can you not want your soul mate?"

"So far my world has been confined to Forks. Why would I want to reduce it further, to only a single person?"

Leah rolled her eyes. "It was a rhetorical question. I don't need a clichéd answer."

"Oh, shut up." I tried throwing the pillow at her, but she easily blocked it. She looked so beautiful, leaning over me like this. "Leah? I know this is a little delayed, not to mention a violation of our deal, but...why did you hate me? Back when I was little?"

The high-pitched laughter she emitted was not a pleasant sound, nor was the way her eyes squinted close as her whole body shook. "Are you seriously _still_ on about that? Come on, Nessie. That was like a billion years ago."

"And you didn't like me," I insisted. "I just want to know why. Closure, you know. Before I leave."

This time _she_ hit _me_ with the pillow. I suppose I should be glad she didn't try and smoother me with it.

"I don't know," she snapped. "Maybe it was your crazy insistence that I was out to get you. Or your entitled attitude. Or you inability to figure out basic human nature. Or your lack of normal human feeling—"

"Harsh," I muttered.

"Or maybe...maybe I was a little jealous."

Wisely, I said nothing. She continued:

"It just gets...so tedious sometimes. Every morning is the same old thing, and no matter how hard I try nothing changes. And _everyone_ around here is the same way." She lost me there. "When I was about ten I used to cry, wishing I had hair like yours. But it never worked out. So maybe years later, when you came around all Curly Sue and unawares, it drove me a little crazy."

"You didn't like me for my hair?"

Her face was perfectly serious. "Above all. There were some other things too, but that was definitely the big one. And...maybe I was a little bit upset that no matter how many hours I spent entertaining you, no matter how many stupid places Jake made me go to, I was just the temp. One you wouldn't even remember, except to be annoyed by. You have no idea how much that pissed me off."

The very first time I had angered Jacob, he had forbidden me to talk about it, but now, years later, I knew he had just been trying to protect her from my extraordinary childish lack of tact. Now I could speak and not hurt her.

"I always thought," I offered her quietly, "You would have made an excellent mother."

"Yeah, well..." Even Leah Clearwater was unable to summon her powers of sarcasm at all times. "You...you. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Emotional abuse is such a great maternal quality."

She also had a great recovery time, but I digress.

"You're a little full of yourself today, aren't you? You're not abusive, you just... have a bit of an edge."

That got her laughing. "Sure, fine. Not that you would know anything about that—I'm never going to understand how you came out so normal when there were so many of us trying to fuck you up in new and exciting ways. You're one of those people who would have turned out the same no matter. Like..." Surprised, but certain of her conclusion, she said, "Like Charlie."

"I happen to believe my role models were doing their best, not trying to ruin me."

"You keep believing that." But she was too busy frowning. "Crap. I'm going to have stop calling Bella the worst mother on the planet. She was smart enough to realize there was no point in trying with you. You would have been okay, no matter what."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "As if you were ever objective when it came to my mother."

"I'm a werewolf; she's a vampire. It's a mortal enemies thing."

I rolled my eyes and engaged in some wishful thinking. "Maybe in a hundred years you'll let it go. I'm glad you didn't hang on to your grudge at me that long."

"Only because my 'grudge' at you was mostly in your head."

"You don't hate me now, do you?"

"I will if you don't shut up."

"Okay," I agreed. "There's just one last thing."

"I'm getting really tired of all these favours."

"It's not a favour. It's a friendly suggestion. I just wanted to say that if, sometime in the future, Jacob finally moves on from me that it might be in your best interest to not punch him in the face at the first sign that he's into you. I'm just saying."

The colour of Leah's face was rather impressive.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"It was just a friendly suggestion."

"I cannot believe you! Seriously? Let it go. It is not going to happen. Move on with life. Or get a life. Whatever will make you just shut up already."

"Just because you don't want to admit..."

It was a small gamble, because she might have just strangled me, but I was hoping that moving out of her house, saying goodbye to her brother and saying goodbye to me all on the same day would have mellowed Leah out a bit. I was right. Though she looked a tiny bit furious, I was still able to breathe.

"So, let me get this straight. You want me to be the girl who, after being forced to essentially give in to his every whim, and follow his every stupid order, and save him from his own crazy ideas, and trail after him like a lost puppy sometimes, to have waited forever for him to get over his ex, namely you, for seven freaking years?"

"Sort of. I just want you to be the girl who's happy."

"I..." She sighed. "I can't kill you for that."

"Good."

She hugged me then, stronger than her brother had, crushing me to her. "My turn to give friendly suggestions. Sometimes, out there, you might get treated like a freak. It's going to happen, no matter how hard you try to blend in. You shouldn't try. You can't succeed in being ordinary—you shouldn't want to. So when they treat you like something someone pulled out of the bottom of a closed off well, tell them to go fuck themselves. Because you are too damn special to listen to that crap.

"Second, guys are assholes. Even the ones who aren't, are. It's a fact. Occasionally, if you're lucky, you will find one who is less of an asshole. Defend him with your life, because chances are, you will not find another one. And if you find one who is a complete and utter asshole, remember that you're stronger than he is—and maybe the next girl won't be. So if they ask for it...don't hold back. Give it to them. Make them bleed.

"And always remember to be good."

"No eating other people. No words over two syllables." I fought back the tears. "I remember, Leah."

"I suppose the occasional trisyllable word couldn't hurt."

"Thank you."

This time, I hugged her, with all the vampire strength I had. It was funny how after all the words that I had exchanged that morning, the things I would remember most about the day I said goodbye at the Clearwater house were a hug and a kiss.

˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅_˅-˅

TBC...


	56. Chapter 56

A/N: Sorry about the delay, but passing school comes first. Thank you all for your patience. The epilogue will be up by in the next two weeks.

* * *

Chapter 56

* * *

There was nothing on earth larger or more imposing then my childhood home, empty of all furniture and adornments (of which there had always been too many), empty of everyone and everything except for myself and the almost tangible past. Memories seemed to spring out of nowhere. The echo of every move I made screamed in my ear.

I had lied, when I told Leah I had to pack. Alice had arranged for everything to be sent to charity before her departure—it wouldn't be fashionable by the time my family came back, so she saw no point in keeping it. To eat my ice cream, I had simply bought plastic spoons on the way home. The hassle of finding the cutlery—if it was even in the two suitcases she had left behind for me to take to Dartmouth—was too traumatizing when all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry.

And I still had to say goodbye to Jacob.

How in the world could I possibly do that? I had needed a plan to get through my conversation with Leah. Meanwhile, my relationship with Jacob was even more indefinable, though such a thing should not have been possible. My whole life it had mutated into whatever I had needed at the moment; I couldn't begin to predict what it would be like today. Under those circumstances, what could I do to prepare except hope that everything would go well?

The doorbell rang. He was fifteen minutes early. The tears threatened to fall. It might have been creepy sitting alone on the floor of an empty house but this was my home and I didn't want to leave it any sooner than I had to. Why did Jacob pick today of all days to not be late?

Gathering myself together, I went to get the door. There was no putting this off, no matter how much like a seven year old I wanted to behave.

"Hey, Nessie." Jacob said as I opened the door. "You ready to go?"

The words caught in my throat. I nodded instead.

"Good. I'll put your bags in the trunk. You should make sure there's nothing you've forgotten."

"Right."

Not that it was possible, but I found myself wandering back through the house anyway. There was nothing—probably not even dust. Vampires don't lose skin cells.

The idea that Dartmouth would now be my home seemed somehow laughable. No offence meant to the town of Hanover, second best place to live in America or not, but it just wasn't as wonderful as Forks. There weren't any trees there—not proper trees, at any rate. The branches never seemed to threaten to split open the sky.

And there was sun. How was I supposed to function when it wasn't overcast? I had never had to do that before in my life.

I just didn't belong there, not the way I belonged here.

And what if they didn't like me?

The first week didn't count, even I knew that. Everyone was putting their best foot forward, holding back on their more judgmental comments for fear of showing their unfortunate sides too soon. But when I got back...everyone would revert to their true forms. My success with human beings had always been rather limited.

"You ready, Nessie?"

I jumped. I hadn't heard Jacob coming up behind me, too lost in my chaotic thoughts. I managed a small smile for him, but not much else. It was a pathetic.

"Yes. Let's go."

"Leah can wait in the car a little bit longer," he said. "Take all the time you want."

"No, really. I need to go."

Standing in front of me, Jacob gave me his old familiar smile. "Do you mind if I just take a second then?"

"Suit yourself."

As ridiculous as it sounds, all I could think of right then was that Jacob was shorter than I realized. Not that he was short by any stretch of the imagination—the only things in all of Washington taller than Jacob Black were the trees. But as he looked around the empty hallway, looking for who knew what, I was struck by how he was shorter than I always thought of him. He wasn't the giant protector of my youth anymore, or the romantic suitor of my later years. He was not diminished just...shorter.

It was the strangest thing. Perhaps I was losing my mind now that I had lost my home. Or perhaps I was starting to realize what Jacob had believed all along—he was just human.

"I'm going to miss this place," he told me. "I don't know why. Still stinks, but...I'm going to miss it."

"Me too. I'll miss it. I'll—I'll miss you more."

Large hands traveled down my forearms to take my hands. "I'm not sure what I'll do with myself when you're not around."

"Look after La Push. Look after your family. Maybe you'll even go on a date." At his look of mock outrage, I couldn't help but giggle. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Don't pine after me too much," he warned me. "I know it'll be hard but..."

"I'll manage. Somehow." Blinking back the tears, I couldn't help but add, "I hope."

"You will. You can do anything."

"Only because you believe in me so much."

It was the truth. If I felt invincible it was because Jacob honestly believed that I was. The faith and love he provided me was extraordinary. Suffocating, but extraordinary. I squeezed his hands tighter.

He gave a little snort, then looked at me apologetically. "I'm getting sentimental in my old age. I'm acting like I'm never going to see you again."

"You will," I promised, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. "Someday."

I threw my arms around him, so tightly I think I might have left a few unintentional bruises. Not that I could make my arms relax. It seemed imperative that I not let go of Jacob. His chest shook as he laughed at me, though his arms were no less tight. He kissed my forehead before pulling away.

"Someday," he echoed. There was a sadness I never associated with my always vibrant Jacob. I think he knew I wasn't going to see him for a long, long time. Of course he knew. He knew everything about me. "You ready yet?"

"Could I have a minute, please?"

"Sure. Want me to wait with you?"

As tempting as it was... "I'll see you in the car."

With a nod, Jacob left me alone in the house again, this time not even with a suitcase to keep me company. I was completely and utterly alone.

Was it supposed to feel good? Because it didn't. It just felt lonely.

Talking to an empty room was far too illogical for me, but I wanted to do something to say goodbye. I understood it was a wood and plaster, yet it had been my home for such a long time that it felt almost...sacrilegious to leave without some sign of gratitude.

Feeling like a fool, I waved to the empty walls. I even blew a kiss. Then I hurried from the house before my brain devolved further.

That the Rabbit hadn't fallen apart before now was a sign of how much work Jacob put into it. And probably proof of the power of prayer. Leah had to get out to help me open the door, but we managed in the end. I even beat her inside so that she had to sit up in the front.

"Got everything?" she asked.

"I think so." I leaned back against the old worn seat and inhaled the smell of leather and fur and grass and mud—Jacob. "It doesn't matter now, anyway. I'll just have to buy whatever I forgot."

"Money doesn't grow on trees."

She repeated the old mantra at me, laughter coloring the words. Leah seemed quite relaxed this afternoon. Her eyes were a little red-rimmed but I don't think she'd be too happy with me if I pointed that out.

"Don't say that in front of the Cullens," Jacob warned her. "Who knows what they'll try and create."

Ignoring Jacob, she turned around in her seat to look at me, to better pronounce her wisdom. "That belt is going to be a bitch to get through security."

"It's easy to take off." I couldn't deprive Alice of her last opportunity to dress me. The werewolves surmised as much.

"Like Alice cares if it's practical. Oh well, it does look great. She end up in Milan?"

"Just until she has the perfect outfit for New York fashion week. Her line is showing."

"Her line is showing," Jacob repeated. Not exactly supportively.

Leah hit him in the shoulder. "Don't be a dick. Just because you don't know how to dress yourself—"

"Hey," he interrupted. "Now that I'm living with Embry, does this mean you won't be able to pick out my clothes for me?"

"How will you _ever_ be able to pick between jeans, jeans and, oh yes, more jeans?"

"It's cute when you try and order me into a shirt."

"Please. I don't do cute."

Before this could devolve into a 'he/she-was-on-my-side-first!' type fight, I interrupted. They had the whole way back to enjoy the unresolved sexual tension. "I take it that Leah can move for sure now?"

"We hope. I might even be able to avoid crashing with Emily."

"It won't come to that," he assured her. "You might have to stay with Paul, but..." The growl was all the reaction he wanted. Not that either of them were worried about the situation. Jacob had decided that Leah was to have her own house—the Council had no choice but to agree with him. When Jacob Black wanted something, he annoyed everyone until he got it

I was the exception. Was it because he had not truly wanted me that he had become passive for the first and only time in his life? Or had my own feelings forced him into the unfamiliar role? Perhaps it was a mixture of both. Maybe the reason I had never grown to love him the way everyone expected me too was that he never allowed his baser emotions free range in my presence. He was always there for me, always supportive and calm...and only half of himself.

Jacob turned the conversation back towards me calling over his shoulder, "Is it true that Bella and Edward are sharing the Island with Carlisle and Esme?"

"Which island?"

"They have more than one?" Leah staged whispered. "Maybe we should have let them buy La Push."

"Nessie's just trying to be funny."

I thought I had succeeded that time, too.

"It's a big island. Carlisle deserves a break and he just wanted a small one. He got a job at a hospital in Mobile, to begin in November." Convincing Jasper that Alabama was safe was difficult, but the family succeeded eventually—after I showed him many of Alice's visions and my father had contacted Peter, who kept abreast with the wars in the south. Jasper had agreed to believe that the southern vampire covens would leave Carlisle alone. "Carlisle wanted to get back to helping people as soon as he could."

"That man is amazing," Leah said. For once she failed to bring the sarcasm.

It was a good description of Carlisle. He had been lonely, yes, selfishly lonely, but he wanted the world to be fair...he would always be the preacher's son who could never quite abandon the idea that he knew how to save us all. No matter how many years he was a vampire, at his heart, Carlisle was still a man. I guess that meant there was hope for us all.

"When he's recovered, Esme will start planning a reunion. She's thinking six years from now, or so. She's going to play it by ear, see what everyone else is comfortable with."

"Everyone okay with having you live without them for six years?"

"I don't know." Blues, reds, browns and greens flashed by the window. The shades were not the same on the East coast, however irrational that sounded. I would have to adapt. "Emmett is having a little trouble dealing with Rosalie but I've promised to call once a day and she'll be okay eventually, we hope. Esme's hoping Mister Jenks will be able to create identities that will allow Rosalie and Emmett to stay with them if she gets too upset. Perhaps Carlisle is a man with many younger brothers who got married too young..."

"What about your parents?"

I was less worried about them. I was an extension of their happiness, not the foundation of it.

"They'll be fine. The fifth honeymoon should distract them somewhat and afterwards...my father is a very skilled man. They'll keep busy."

"TMI much," Leah sighed. Jacob barely concealed his nausea as he complained, "I never needed to hear about Edward's skills from you."

It was their own faults for being perverts.

"That's not what—shut up, Jacob."

And to punctuate my point, the Rabbit decided to emit an explosion, which promptly crippled it.

"Jake..."

I doubted he heard Leah over his stream of cussing, though when she punched him, he switched to mentally cursing (I didn't have to read his mind to know this; it was all over his face). Easing the old car over to the side of the road, his fingers were slowly imprinting themselves on the steering wheel, forever.

"Breathe," Leah ordered as he started over the dashboard in horror. "Breathe. You can fix it."

"Just give me five minutes."

The noise was deafening when he opened the door—the screaming of other vehicles as they raced past almost blew out my eardrums, as they travelled towards the future—but it was almost nice when he shut the door behind him.

"Come on," Leah said to me. I glanced her way, confused, because she just looked expectant.

"Where?"

It was a dumb question, but the Rabbit might finally be dying—in the face of this minor miracle, it was acceptable for my brain not to work.

"Outside. I'm going to supervise and you can hold the tools."

Cackling like the witch she was, Leah climbed out of the car. I slid over the seat to follow suite, preferring to exit from the side that didn't have cars speeding past it. I wouldn't want to damage another car today. Besides, the last thing the Rabbit needed at this moment was to have its door knocked off.

The two were bickering as they examined the tire, though just for show. Jacob had already lifted up the car.

"Of all of the things that can go wrong with the Rabbit, a flat tire has always been the least of my worries," I admitted. They heard me over the noise.

"We'll get there with plenty of time," Jacob assured me. There was thankfully a spare tire in the trunk and it would get us to Seattle, where they would find a garage.

"I know."

He didn't have it in him to lie to me, and even if he had, he wouldn't have needed to. As I had witnessed my whole life, the Rabbit would let nothing short of the apocalypse stop it (and even then...it would probably be around to crush the cockroaches).

"But it would be faster if we just called a cab. I doubt anyone would steal the Rabbit if you just left it here. That way you wouldn't have to worry about it breaking down further."

"As soon as I fix the tire—which can happen to any car, by the way—the Rabbit will get us to the airport faster than anything," Jacob said with all the over-confidence and false bravado of an Alpha wolf. Leah rolled her eyes, but nodded unconsciously anyway.

"Or we could try hitchhiking."

"I don't think we could handle the hassle of having you get kidnapped by a serial killer on your way to the airport," Leah decided. "Your parents would just not stop complaining about that."

"Your concern is touching."

"I'm with Leah on this one," Jacob said. "Edward might stop calling me his son if I let you get in a car with a killer. I don't know how I would survive the heartache."

He even clutched his chest, pretending to wipe away a tear. Leah offered, "I won't tell anyone if you push him into the oncoming traffic."

I called Jacob's bluff instead. "You're going to miss my father. Maybe not as much as Seth will, but far more than you'll ever admit. The two of you actually get along quite well whenever you manage to get over your gigantic egos. And you'll miss the rest of my family too, as much as you'll pretend you won't. Especially my mother."

She had gone to see him the night before they left. I had not asked what they had said. It was private...and I didn't want to know what those two best friends had said to one another. I didn't want to hear my mother wonder what might have been, so I took the coward's way and clung to my ignorance instead. It was taking time, but I was becoming human.

All Jacob said was, "I refuse to admit to missing Rosalie."

"I'll miss her," Leah said, taking great delight from Jacob's uncomfortable expression.

"No you won't," he all but pleaded. "Now that she's gone you get to be the undisputed biggest bitch in town."

"You say that like I wasn't already."

"I'm going to miss you two," I said, derailing the argument. I hadn't meant to, but it just sort of slipped out.

Leah answered for both of them, as Jacob finished up. "Of course you will. We're awesome."

She came over to wrap an arm around my waist, giving Jacob time to finish. It wasn't long before he stood, wiping his hands on his jeans, letting the thick material absorb the grime. "All done."

We climbed back into the Rabbit and it got us to the airport with the car equivalent of a tiny limp, Jacob cooing the whole way, so terribly proud. He should be. I doubt the car would have traveled that distance for anyone else.

"Passport? Ticket?" Leah asked. As she reverted to mother/big sister/whatever-she-wanted-to-call-it mode, I couldn't help but smile, even as we went through the tedious process of making sure that I had everything with me.

"We're here," Jacob said as he parked. We all fell silent, not be verbal agreement, but by mutual understanding. There wasn't much left to say. Why ruin the moment with imprecise words?

They waited in line with me to get my ticket. As airports went, Seattle-Tacoma International Airport was not as crowded as it should have been. It only took us fifteen minutes to get to the front. Once I had my ticket, I had to go to security. By myself.

I hugged Leah gently, pretending I didn't see how her eyes were watering. There were no more choked words of advice, just a brilliant smile, once I had pulled away.

I guess Leah Clearwater didn't hate me after all. But after all these years, I really didn't need her to say it.

Jacob grabbed me tightly around the waist, his arms making it difficult to breathe. He didn't say anything either, just kissed me lightly on the forehead. I would have tried to articulate how thankful I was that he had been in my life, but he knew that already. I settled for wiping away the tears and hugging him tighter.

"Goodbye, Nessie," he said. There was a tiny catch in his throat that pride would never let him admit to, so I ignored it.

"Goodbye."

And just like that, I left them there, in the middle of the airport. It was hard, to be sure, but not impossible. There was no swelling of strings, nor the inexplicable pull to return. Though my heart ached in my chest, I kept walking without faltering. I was leaving Forks and La Push, the only world I had ever known...and I was strong enough to survive it.

The line to go through the metal detectors was long, so once I was in position I allowed myself to turn around, to watch them leave. They were already heading towards the exit, in synch as always, drawing looks from a few people who didn't quite believe that human beings could be that tall. Jacob glanced backwards, once, but I don't think he saw me before he turned back around.

When Leah started drifting to the side, he wrapped an arm around her waist, anchoring her to the sights and sounds of the airport and not at all that was disappearing. She allowed him to comfort her, the way she would allow no one else. Because of his birthright, because of his friendship—because he was Jacob Black, and it just wasn't possible it get rid of him in order to wallow in your own self-pity.

My ears couldn't pick up what they were saying, not that I tried to listen. Possibly something about fishing rights and they-knew-what else. La Push wouldn't run itself. Jacob glanced behind him one last time.

They turned the corner and disappeared from view.

TBC...


	57. Chapter 57

A/N: So when I finish this story, the internet goes down for the weekend and I'm stuck with it incomplete. Sigh... still, it's done. 57 chapter, almost 200,000 words, and here we are, at the end.

I know. I'm pretty surprised myself.

It took me over a year, but we finally made it. And, make no mistake, it is the end. I did plan out a sequel, but it's far too long (and dark) for me to write—and I couldn't not write that particular sequel. So here I must stop.

This story has changed my life and I have all you to thank for it. Without your encouragement, support and the occasional 'when are you EVER going to continue?'s, I would have given up long ago. And my life would be much less rich for it.

I wanted to say special thanks to some people, but there was always one more person to add and it would kill me to forget someone, so I had to scrap that. Instead, to the wonderfully kind and sometimes brilliant reviewers who helped me realize what I was doing right and, more importantly, what I was doing wrong with this story, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope you know who you are.

And that brings us to the beginning of the end. Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 57

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a young woman, more of a girl, really, and she met a man, who wasn't really a man at all. And after much heartache, and much more love, there was me. I was the happily ever after.

There are worse things to be.

_You're an idiot._

As Leah enjoyed reminding me daily.

Well, not daily. Werewolves were not the most reliable pen pals (Seth was the best and even he could go as long as sixteen days without remembering it was his turn to initiate contact) and there was usually a computer crisis at least once a month that ruined whatever schedule Leah and I had been following. But she wrote frequently enough, and Jacob never did, and that was the point. Even if I couldn't help wishing Jacob could step in and censor her.

_There will be no peace in La Push until they take their pointy teeth and..._

Not that I thought he would like the half-vampires anymore than she did, but he would hopefully be less creative about expressing his displeasure. They were behaving—which meant that Elmira's only form of entertainment came from antagonizing the werewolves. Which she did daily, accordingly to Leah. My pathetic attempts at brokering peace met with little success. I could only hope that one day everyone involved would just learn to be a little more flexible.

_Not that we have more important things to worry about than psychotic...without your family around to attract hordes of bloodsuckers set on murdering all of humanity, there's nothing much for us to do. If I have to listen to Paul complain about his hairballs one more time..._

It was as close to saying she missed them as she would get—I would take it. Werewolves weren't supposed to like vampires at all, anyway. What would the entertainment industry do, if all us supernaturals got along? It would be anarchy.

Better leave Leah pretending to hate my family, even as she looked back on the times we spent together and couldn't help feeling a little wistful. As usual, she would not appreciate the observation.

Besides, as she would most definitely point out, missing them a tiny, insignificant bit did not necessarily translate to liking them an iota.

_...Jake didn't believe I wasn't serious about the fire thing, so he went all Alpha. But Embry knows I can get around our gloriously bigheaded leader and I will if he doesn't learn how to lock the damn door, so hopefully he and your sister dearest will stop..._

Despite or because of Leah's complaints, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if anyone attempted to hurt the hybrids on Quileute land. The retribution of the werewolves would be brutal, I was sure. And maybe in seven years Leah and the other hybrids would realize it had never been about hating each other at all.

Or perhaps she would let them die. Thirty or so 'incidents' later and Shelia still hadn't grasped the concept of privacy? A small part of me couldn't really blame Leah for her anger.

_...Emily wants to make me godmother, again. I said yes. They'd make me cook for the damn thing anyway, so I might as well get some credit for it. And I think this way they have to buy me presents._

_Besides, it's not Emily's fault she married a moron. If Sam would just stop with the disloyal thoughts, Jake could stop beating him to a pulp. Not that he let the pack threatening to split into two interfere with his date. Men._

It wasn't a wolf thing, just a Leah one, but the fact remained she would not tell me clearly what Jacob was doing with his life. It came out in snippets, here and there, because she couldn't tell me about her life without mentioning his. But I think she made a conscious effort to restrain herself, because all I got were fragments.

Was it treachery for the beta wolf to give away his secrets to me?

Perhaps. It made me wonder how we had ever thought it possible that he should survive always divided in two, in love with me and forever connected to her, to the wolves, to his home. It was ridiculous to think of it now, how fate had planned for him to be fully devoted to two utterly separate worlds.

It didn't mean I didn't miss him.

So I took whatever morsel Leah gave me and asked Seth for a broader picture the next time I talked to him. Since this particular e-mail had been written at the beginning of the year, Seth had already provided the appropriate background information. Such as: a) Sam's 'disloyal thoughts' consisted of wondering why Jacob still felt there should be patrols now that the Cullens were gone, which is what all the werewolf's were wondering, anyhow b) Leah hadn't spoken to Jacob for three days afterwards because she could beat up Sam on her own, thank you very much c) Embry was claiming credit, under pain of death, for all the food she had sent over to say thank you d) Leah had started speaking to Jacob again in order to make sure he didn't stand her friend up. Jacob didn't bother with a second date, though he was beginning to wonder how many friends Leah was going to make him go out with before she was satisfied that they were even.

Seth said to give them until the summer. That's apparently when he, Quil and Embry were just going to announce Leah had punished Jacob enough. Imprinting on me wasn't his choice and it's not like he had meant to screw with her life for all those years. So just...whatever, already.

I told Seth the werewolves could use a little tact. Since this was soon after I had asked him directly whether we were friends with benefits, Seth just laughed in my face.

For the record, I was not trying to embroil the two of us in such a scandalous arrangement, I was simply curious if the term my roommate had offered with a perfectly sculpted raised eyebrow was what best described our relationship. He maintained that we were friends who were finally allowed to make physical contact without risking immolation, suffocation, disembowelment, defenestration and angry glares. The reprieve from certain death allowed his arm to linger around my waist...in order to introduce me to one of the friends who had traveled with him to meet me. Seth was right; friends with unconscious physical contact. It was...nice.

_Even Charlie's stopped asking us when we're going to fix the hole in the wall. I guess he figures if Mom hasn't gotten Quil to do it by now, it's just not humanely possible. But otherwise they're doing good. _

_And I'm so glad your mother nixed the surprise party idea. I can't see Charlie ever getting into that sort of thing. I wasn't sure your mother knew how to stand up to Alice, but I was glad to see I was wrong. _

It had been a minor miracle, but my mother had managed. The year of my birth, Charlie Swan had survived all the surprises he was ever going to be able too. A party out of nowhere just might kill him.

It was nice of Alice to offer—she had been very busy with her fashion business lately. I didn't understand much of it, but she was happy. It seemed like all my family, despite what I had always thought, were quite capable of adapting to life without me. It was strange, but I rather liked it. Esme always remembered to call me to let me know how everyone was doing, in the rare case they were too busy. There was no more hovering, just friendship. It was good.

_I had to go to Newton's the other day for—_

"Surprise!"

I turned around from my computer to find my roommate standing in the doorway, arms flung open wide. To say I even intermittently understood Ashley was far too generous, and it hadn't escaped my notice that her adoration of me coincided with her observation of the masculine attention I seemed to receive, but the two of us got along well enough.

Most of the time. Then again, most of the time she wasn't acting crazy.

"What is it?" I asked, suspiciously, turning away from Leah's e-mail. I was just rereading it in a fit of sentimentality, after all. "Did you finish that essay?"

"It'll happen eventually," she assured me. "This is so much better. You've. Got. Mail!"

"Excuse me?"

"A letter," she said, finally dropping the self-conscious 'aren't I adorable?' act. "I checked the mail box, and you have a letter. I brought it back for you."

All dorm rooms had their own mail slot, but I never received anything in mine. It was impractical. The internet was fast, the telephone was intimate, the singing telegram (unnecessary, but thank you, Emmett) was available. So it was with more than some surprise that I stood to take the letter from her.

"Who's it from?"

Ashley shrugged. "I'm just the delivery gal. You want me to read it for you, you have to pay extra."

"Thank you," I said as I took the letter.

Snail mail. The rhyme sounded pleasing, even if they phrase was rather fanciful. The postal service contained no snails and its services were not that delayed. I never really understood it.

But I could only think of one person who would contact me this way.

The Cullens mostly preferred the telephone, so they could hear my voice and analyze each inflection for all it was worth. Rosalie, especially, was never satisfied with a brief e-mail even if I was particularly busy with school. She had to hear my voice, or else she would be haunted by the thought that somehow, someone had managed to falsify the message. Seth, too, preferred the phone, unlike his sister who scrawled out long e-mails...but only when the inclination struck. Annie liked instant messenger, and Shelia (once Embry had finally managed to explain) also seemed inclined in that fashion. The other hybrids would write letters the old-fashioned way, but they simply wouldn't bother—they would extend their sentiments through Shelia, and no more. Nahuel and his aunt simply didn't talk to me anymore.

So...that left Jacob.

In the twenty-nine weeks since I had left Forks, Jacob had not contacted me. It was what I wanted, so he didn't.

But he was the only one who would send me a letter.

I trusted Leah had informed him (and convinced him) that complete separation for the best. That meant he was the only one who couldn't call—hearing his voice would violate every rule I strove to enforce, and he would never violate my wishes so overtly. Electronic correspondence would go through Leah or Embry, the members of the pack who owned computers, who managed the Quiluete concerns through the web. They would stop him, since it was for his sake that he had to avoid me. But he could send me a letter.

I didn't even blink when I saw the handwriting.

He still wrote like a five-year-old boy.

"Who's it from?" Ashley asked as she flopped down on her bed, getting back to whatever she had been doing on her computer.

What in the world could I call our relationship in order to make a human understand?

"He's...an old friend. I haven't heard from him in ages. I didn't even know he had this address."

"Maybe he's stalking you."

There was no judgment, just hope—like it would be exciting to have people following you around. Like it was normal. Maybe that's why we got along.

"No. He's...he must have gotten the address from Seth."

Or my parents, but I figured Seth was more likely. My mother would have failed to hide what she had done, and my father would have warned me. Jacob could have simply ordered Seth for the information and then ordered him not to warn me, though I thought it more likely that Jacob had just managed to convince the younger werewolf that he had my best interests at heart. I trusted Jacob—he wouldn't have contacted me unless his reason was a good one.

I ripped open the small envelope. There was a thin sheet of paper inside and I pulled it out quickly, eyes devouring the words on the page, taking in the old familiar scribble. Eight words. I read them over, trying to make sense of them.

"What's it say?" Ashley asked.

_You were right._

_Thank you. _

_We love you. _

"What the hell does that mean?"

Jacob and I disagreed about many things; there were far fewer that I would ever say I had been right about. But evidently one of those times must be what he was referring too.

I closed my eyes, trying to think. "Would it have hurt him to be less cryptic?"

"Thank you sounds good, at least."

Thank for not speaking to me, for leaving me alone? For forcing us apart? We disagreed on that, I was sure. But was that what was meant?

Yes, I decided, finally allowing a smile to creep over my face. Yes. For all his faults (the few he had let me see, the others that I had guessed from other people's reactions) Jacob was not particularly narcissistic. He wouldn't use the royal we. Maybe it was the pack he was talking about. I doubted it.

I quickly stood up and grabbed a pen and paper. If Jacob Black wanted to be enigmatic, he would learn two could play at that game. He wrote eight words and my unfamiliar address. I did better. I addressed the envelope to a familiar place and managed only seven words.

Then I sealed up the letter.

The English language, imperfect and imprecise as usual, let me down. There was no plural second person subject pronoun. They would just have to infer that themselves. I would just have to have faith.

Seven words for seven years spent raising me.

An unfair trade, but it was the best I could do. With love...it was enough.

* * *

The End

* * *

_I love you._

_You're welcome._

_I know._


End file.
